The Blossom & The Blade
by WanderingHuntress
Summary: Solus, the Last Star, has been saved but this has not brought the Battleborn peace yet. Still struggling with her inner rage, Thorn finds herself thrown into a mission with the one ally she can't stand, at odds with him and with herself. But when they're caught up alone together in a Varelsi invasion on Ekkunar they'll have to learn to trust each other if they want to survive.
1. Only One Way To Go

****Author's Note: All characters, places, events, and names belong to Gearbox/2K, I claim nothing for myself! Also, the T Rating is a STRONG (T+) that will likely eventually be more along the lines of M, just so nobody is blindsided later when things get darker and meaner (because they will!).****

 **One**

~ O ~

Thorn leaned back against the tree's trunk and gave a frustrated huff, keeping one keen eye on the path far below despite not having seen another living soul for hours. This advance scouting mission Ghalt had sent her out on was a bullshit waste of time – she could be slaughtering Varelsi scum with Montana and Oscar right now! Instead she was lounging around in the canopy of Ekkunar's jungle all day grappling with her inner rage. Yes, the Battleborn had saved the last star together, and the dim light of Solus peeking through the clouds above this Eldrid planet was a warm and comforting reminder that the darkness was, for now, being held at bay. They had won. So why was she still so damned pissed off? The answer was, it wasn't enough. Not yet. Every last Varelsi, every remaining supporter of that dick Rendain, would have to pay with their blood, with their dying screams, to even begin to make up for the aching sense of loss she felt in her chest every time she took a breath. An arrow for every head.

Not even the rough bark of the ancient Ekkuni tree at her back was reassuring, she rarely could take pleasure anymore in this wild place she called home only out of necessity. Her __true__ home had long ago been swept away by the rising tide of oblivion. The very thought provoked another swell of fury in the Aelfrin warrior and she gritted her teeth hard to resist the urge to scream. It wouldn't do to give away her position, just in case there did happen to be any enemies in this area. And more than that, she was loathe to give her partner on this mission any idea where she might be. Climbing this tree was more than a strategic vantage point – Thorn was hiding out.

Trevor Ghalt, in his infinite leader's wisdom, had realized that their Eldrid sniper was beginning to crack and thought some time away from open combat would be good for her, to help her relax and recharge. To "Commune with nature, or dance around naked, or whatever the hell you guys do out there in the woods," were his exact words. Melka, who had been there at the time, had rolled her eyes, one hand on her cocked hip, "Sure Ghalt, that's what all Eldrid do, we strip down and __commune__ with every plant in sight." Thorn, meanwhile, had been mostly speechless in her anger but knew protesting wasn't going to get her anywhere but benched. And Nova's Captain had been canny enough to refrain from telling Thorn who he was sending along as her partner and backup on this joke of a mission until they were already in the drop-ship and there was nothing she could do about it. Because if she had known there is a good chance she would have jammed an arrow in Ghalt's eye before promptly impaling herself.

Needless to say, she'd immediately given her partner the slip once the ship's bay door had opened – he was fast and tried to keep up with her, shouting for her to wait, but nobody could beat the Aelfrin in a sprint and she'd outpaced him to disappear into the Ekkunari jungle. Once inside its protective cover Thorn was a ghost, a hunter, a predator in her element. He had no hope of finding her if she didn't want him to, and she most definitely did __not__.

It wasn't her proudest moment, no. In truth it felt a bit like pitching a tantrum as a child would, but Ghalt had to know she would balk at having to spend an entire week scouting out the far reaches of Ekkunar's wilderness with the one man she hated almost as much as she hated Rendain himself. Jennerit bastard! Verod Rath wasn't much better than the power hungry warlord in her eyes, and sharing space with him on the ride over had made her flesh crawl and her fingers twitch eagerly at the string of her beloved longbow Kreshek – he may have been a hero among most of the other Battleborn but she would never see him that way. She could not deny he was a capable warrior and had never failed in his duties, proving his loyalty to their cause despite his Imperium allegiance time and again. None of that changed the fact that the very sight of him left a bad taste in her mouth.

In the distance a faint but familiar sound pricked her ears, pulling her abruptly out of her angst-ridden thoughts. The ringing clang of energy blades striking in quick succession echoed through the dense foliage from somewhere far to the northeast of her current location, audible at this range only because her part of the jungle was so quiet and her hearing was exceptionally sharp. Apparently her idiotic arrogant ass of a partner had run into some trouble and found himself in a fight. With no visual line on the battle she had no way of knowing if he was outnumbered or had things well in hand, if it was merely local wildlife or a Varelsi void bloom. No part of her wanted to go help the arrogant Jennerit bodyguard, but she imagined what Ghalt would say if Rath died out there alone and she stood by and simply let it happen. Actually he probably wouldn't say anything at all – he'd just use one of his shotguns to splatter her brains across Nova's command console. Time to suck it up and do her damn job. Damnit.

Heaving another sigh, and annoyed with herself for a multitude of reasons, Thorn dropped out of the tree she'd been camped out in to land lightly on her feet. She took only a moment to orient herself and gauge the direction the fight sounds were coming from before gripping Kreshek tight and taking off in a fast sprint toward them, muttering to herself.

 _"_ _ _Rath, you better be up to your ridiculously pointy chin in Varelsi berserkers you prick."__

~ O ~

He watched the Varelsi skulk's featureless white face split under the force of a well-placed blow from his blade, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction as its shadowy malformed body immediately crumpled to the ground. It was an easy kill, but he could ill afford to bask in that satisfaction when there were hundreds more clambering to take that one's place in front of him, to all sides of him. _Hundreds_ may have been an exaggeration, or it could be entirely accurate since he'd stopped counting the waves of aliens pouring out of their black tears in the fabric of space, and so far they weren't slowing. He'd also lost count of how many he'd killed so far. A lot. The great warrior Rath did not tire easily, but his arms were beginning to drag, he was feeling the weight of his katanas Order and Axiom in a way he rarely experienced. If he were being honest with himself, he could not keep this up much longer.

A sudden spark of defiance inflated his chest, making him draw a deep breath and press on, giving a battle cry and fiercely driving back the the Varelsi hunter attacking him. He was Verod Rath of the Jennerit Empire! He was a legendary swordsman! He would not be taken down by these intergalactic vermin! They crowded in on him even as he struck down one after another, slashing and spinning in a blur of death that further exhausted him with each passing moment but he had deep reserves and a determination to match. If they were going to kill him he would take as many with him as possible first. Soon their clawed swipes were getting through his defenses, his Bladekeeper's Vestment thankfully absorbing much of their weak attacks and shielding him from the worst of the heavier hits. Eventually though even his armor would give out. He knew he was running out of time.

Rath crossed his blades and drew them sharply apart in front of him, cutting through the air with his sheer will and pushing it out away from him to knock a few Varelsi up into the air and stun them, giving him enough time to turn and protect his flank from incoming attacks. They were trying to overwhelm him, and nearly succeeding. If those damned portals didn't close soon and stop spilling more vermin out of them he would be completely screwed.

He growled in his throat and cut down two more skulks, mentally cursing his partner on this so-called mission for her utter failure. He might die here, all because she couldn't be bothered to control her personal feelings and act as a professional. It had been no secret that she loathed him, but it hardly mattered in the face of duty and honor. Emotions were a thing of inconvenience and distraction to be kept tightly in check and locked away. Emotions got a warrior killed on a battlefield, or in this case got her _partner_ killed because she needed to go climb a tree and have a good cry while he went on patrol alone. The Aelfrin archer was a savage and a disgrace, and her lack of self-mastery was a liability. He couldn't work like this! If he lived through today he planned on having a few stern words with Ghalt over her lack of qualifications for their team. Marquis may have been a psychotic greed-obsessed magnus, but being overly _emotional_ was never a problem with him and he was an accomplished sniper and reliable teammate in his own right. They didn't need a loose cannon like Thorn risking their missions every time she had a temper tantrum.

The skulk impaled on this end of his sword struggled briefly before he kicked it off and lunged for the next one, his breathing coming more labored, ragged. His armor was tattered and although it was regenerative it was being damaged at a rate that the nanotech could not keep up with, exposing ever-widening patches of his vulnerable bare flesh underneath. And no sooner had he had this thought, stabbing another skulk in front of him through the face, than he felt a white-hot flash of pain strike up his back. It was intense enough that Rath actually cried out and stumbled forward, his vision blurring and a ringing echoing in his ears as he struggling to maintain his footing. He slashed his blades out in an arc as he turned, nearly freezing from the agony, not so much aiming for anything specific so much as trying to keep his enemies clear of him for a moment so he could recover. Then he saw it, his new attacker.

It's inky black tentacles hung down in long, twisting lengths of energy the color of a fresh bruise, long inhuman arms dangling at its sides and that blank white face hovering above a writhing mass of shadow. A fucking Varelsi veil walker. It must have slipped out of the portal behind him, taking advantage of his preoccupation with the easier targets to strike out at his unguarded back, scoring a deep wound. He could feel the wet heat of blood spreading across his skin, flowing freely from the long wound and down his spine.

A powerful wave of dizziness swept over him, causing him to take a stumbling step backwards, looking up at the veil walker while it regarded him silently, as if evaluating him. So drained of strength and standing alone in the face of such an enemy, not to mention the few of its minions he hadn't yet killed still surrounding him, Rath knew he could not win this fight. The thought of retreat whispered through his mind, as was only natural in such a desperate situation, but he quickly cut that down. He was a true swordsman – to die in battle was honorable, to turn and run was the way of a coward. Honor and duty were everything to him, they were that by which he defined himself. He would never run, he'd rather fall on his own blade first.

Drawing himself up to his full impressive height (though the veil walker still towered over him, hovering above the ground as it did), Verod Rath tightened his grip on Axiom and Order, determined to take the Varelsi leader with him. He would shed every last drop of blood in his body and die like a warrior, swords in hand.

The Keeper of the Blade tensed his weary muscles, preparing to launch himself at the veil walker, just as a glowing arrow struck the monstrous alien through the neck, protruding from the opposite side. It gave an otherwordly squeal of pain and writhed in place, tentacles lashing out wildly as the ground all around them erupted in a circle of interwoven sigils cast in bright green light. He didn't need to look to know it was Thorn, finally arrived and casting her Eldrid magic to give him an edge, cursing their enemies, and the seasoned warrior did not hesitate to seize the moment of surprise. With a furious cry he raised his swords and threw himself at the remaining Varelsi, ignoring his exhaustion and his serious wounds, becoming a whirling living blade of death itself, cutting anything in his path to ribbons. The veil walker recoiled from the onslaught, its tentacles unable to penetrate his flurry of strikes, another two arrows sinking deep into its side as he pressed it back and it fell to the ground, no longer able to hold itself up. He focused the last shreds of power he possessed in slashing deeper and deeper into the Varelsi leader while the smaller skulks dropped around him from well-placed arrows to their faces, Thorn's taunts and war-cries accompanying each thud. With a final roar Rath ceased his spin and drove both Order and Axiom deep into the chest of the veil walker, the creature dissolving back into the void from whence it came just as Thorn's Blight evaporated into the air.

A strange silence fell over everything with the battle so quickly concluded, Rath standing still with his blades extended in the finishing blow though his enemy was gone, the portals closed. Only the sound of his own harsh breathing and his speeding heartbeat rushed in his ears. Drained and wracked with pain, suddenly he realized how close to death he had truly been, a trembling taking over his weary body. With tremendous effort he lowered his trustworthy blades, trying to lean on them but unable to keep his balance anymore, falling to the ground in what felt like slow motion and his swords tumbling to the side. He didn't even feel the ground meet him, darkness already creeping in on the edges of his vision. Perhaps he was going to die after all, perhaps it was his fate. Above him the sky of Ekkunar was dimming too, the day closing down into night as the last star slipped out of their part of space to light some other sky for awhile. It was a beautiful sight, one he didn't mind being his last.

That view was blocked when a shadow abruptly fell over him, a tan and painted face with two huge green eyes peering down at him and a frown barely wrinkling her smooth forehead, long white hair brushing the center of his chest as she knelt beside him. There was something magnetic in the depths of her eyes, and also something like... Concern? Surely not, his failing brain was imagining things. But she was... What? It was funny that he had never _really_ looked at her before, and now it might be the last thing he ever saw. The encroaching black kept marching forward across his conscious mind and Rath didn't fight it, switching him off and drowning the image of her wild beauty in darkness.


	2. The Sky Is Falling

Two 

~O~

"So, ya think they've killed eachother yet?" Mellka finished sharpening her Bio-Glaive (which never actually needed to be sharpened, she just enjoyed the routine) and took a deep drink of the bittersweet Ekkuni beer she was sharing with Ghalt and Reyna. Deande had taken a delicate sniff of the brew before wrinkling up her tiny white nose and shaking her head so vehemently her blonde waves bounced around on her shoulders. Instead she'd retrieved a fancy bottle of some dark red liquid from her quarters and was drinking tiny glassfuls of the stuff while she sharpened her Tessurim war fans. She'd said it was wine but Mellka thought it looked a lot like blood and couldn't be convinced otherwise, no matter what the spymistress said.

Reyna finished tuning up her laser pistol and set it down before taking a long drink of beer for herself, seeming to be reflecting deeply on the question, a frown on her face. Mellka laughed, "Damn Rey, it's not _that_ serious." But the fiery glance the Valkyrie gave her with her one good eye shut her up fast. Maybe it _was_ that serious.

"If Thorn and Rath can't find a way to coexist we're gonna have to let one of them go. Do _you_ wanna to be the one to make that decision Mel? I don't think any of us want to be the messenger in that situation. And we will have lost an asset to our team on top of it! So yeah, I think it's pretty fucking serious." Reyna crossed her arms over her ample chest to further demonstrate her point, Ghalt reaching over to pat her shoulder.

"She's right, we downplayed it but Thorn's intolerance of Rath has been an issue, and he seems to take pleasure in taunting her into overreacting. It pulls their focus on missions and we can't afford that when it puts us all at risk. Sending them out with no backup but each other will force them to work together." The First Battleborn continued cleaning his UPR issue M8-R shotgun as he talked, his tone casual but somber, "I put a lot of thought into it."

Mellka blew a stray strand of her wild bangs out of her face, leaning her elbows on the table and making slow eye contact with each of them. "And what happens if they get attacked out there and can't figure their shit out? Or what if they try to kill each other for real since there's no one around to talk some sense into their dumb asses? We don't even have eyes on the ground down there right now!"

"Ekkunar's been quiet since the evac was completed and the fires went out. According to Nova there should only be wildlife and maybe a few stray thralls in the area to worry about, and they should be able to handle that easily. You're overthinking this Mel. I get that you're worried but they need this. We need them to do this." Reyna took another drink of beer as she talked and offered a refill to both of them, they happily accepted.

With her absurdly small crystal goblet held lightly between two fingers, Deande gave her own beverage a delicate sip, reaching with the other hand to smooth Melka's sleeve. The Eldrid elf reflexively flinched away from the Jennerit spy's touch, but if Deande noticed or cared she did not show it. "Melka, they simply need to work together, to overcome Thorn's misplaced distrust for Verod. You overcame your distrust of me after we got through the Heliophage together, did you not? And even the Captain has learned to trust me in spite of that whole torture incident-"

"Let's not rehash any of _that_ now, okay?" Ghalt interrupted, clearly looking flushed with suppressed feeling. It was Reyna's turn to pat him but she said nothing. Deande cleared her throat and proceeded, "Well, my point was, we have all overcome some level of disliking for our fellow allies here, Thorn will simply have to do the same. She has put Rath's face on the suffering of her people, unfairly so – she must learn to separate."

Sudden anger flashed in the mercenary's heart as she sat up straighter, brushing Deande's touch away. "Why is it only _Thorn_ who has the problem? Yeah her anger at him might be a little... misplaced, but I've seen the way that sword-toting peacock talks to her, like she's a mindless barbarian and he's a fucking emperor. He thinks he's so much better than us savage Eldrid, so much more _civilized_ , all you fucking Jennerit vampires think that and I'm so sick of it! So in this case I can see Thorn's point, even if you none of you can." Not waiting to hear what any of them had to say, Mellka snatched her beer up from the table as she stood, ignoring the way it sloshed over the rim and all over her hand, storming out of the room. The doors were all pressurized and automatic, otherwise she would have gladly slammed it behind her. She'd meant what she said, but there really was no reason for her outburst. She _did_ trust Deande now, and she agreed that Thorn needed to stop blaming Rath for nameless transgressions and venting her rage on him. There was just this feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach though... She couldn't shake it. It was making her edgy.

She reached up to smooth back her two-tone hair, realizing a second too late that her hand was wet with beer. _Fuck_ Oh well, she'd smell like an Ekkuni tavern for awhile. What she really needed was a good workout, or a good laugh. And definitely more beer. Where was Boldur when you needed him? If anyone would understand how Mellka was feeling right now it was the Ekkuni dwarf, Thorn's adopted Grandfather.

Mellka set off to find him.

~O~

He was aware of his body before he attempted to open his eyes, feeling something soft and spongy underneath him while his cheek rested on something like a cushion. A cool breeze was touching his back, his bare skin prickling pleasantly at the unexpected sensation. _Bare skin?_ The sudden realization that his armor was stripped off sent a shock through him, his eyes snapping open as he commanded his body to equally snap to attention. He'd just begun to lift his head and gather his legs underneath him when the pain set in, sending him collapsing back onto his stomach with a gasp. A strong hand came to rest on his shoulder to hold him down there, a familiar growling voice coming from behind him, "Idiot, lay still or you'll make things worse. I'm treating your wound." He would know Thorn's strange Aelfrin accent anywhere.

His eyes began to adjust to the space he found himself in. It was dark, well past nightfall he would guess, but he couldn't see the sky to help him judge more accurately. No campfire burned, the small area lit instead by a dim blue luminescence originating somewhere above them. Ekkunar's forests were known for their bio-luminescent plantlife, he would bet that was the source. The wide dark leaves arranged underneath him as a makeshift bed may have even been sourced from the same plant but his knowledge of such things was admittedly limited. What he could be certain of was that he did not like being laid bare and unarmored in front of Thorn, being made to look weak and needful. Memories of the fight with the Varelsi advance party came flooding back and he felt the prick of shame that he had failed to stay on his feet afterward, failed to take his enemies down alone. If she had shown up even a minute later...

Rath stubbornly cut that thought down. Who knows what would have happened. What _did_ happen was that once again she'd allowed her obsessive anger to jeopardize the mission. It was completely unacceptable, and if he could get up he would certainly tell her so. But now there were a few more pressing matters at hand.

"Where are we?" He was gruff, unhappy that he was relying on her for such information. She was probably loving it.

"You passed out, I built a travois to haul your heavy ass back here to safety so I could try to heal you. There are no UPR services down here anymore until they are reestablished, and I can't get Nova to respond when I hail. I think there's some kind of atmospheric interference. So I'm doing this the Eldrid way."

Rath balked and tried to shift, but _damn_ she was strong for a woman so slight, pinning his shoulder so he couldn't turn over, She hissed "Stop struggling or I'll let you bleed to death!"

"But you are no Miko! And it's just a scratch, I'll be fine! Let me up you savage witch!"

Her fingers dug into his shoulder hard, and he felt her hair brush gently against the back of his neck as she leaned down close to his ear, her voice a rasping whisper, "I swear by the fallen light of Eshteni that if you don't shut your Jennerit mouth and let me work I will finish you off myself." He could tell she meant it, but all he could focus on was the way her breath felt warm against his skin and her scent, green and fresh like a sapling in spring bloom. He felt momentarily dazed by her closeness, then felt a wave of disgust with himself for having such a thought – the only explanation was he must be concussed as well. A head injury, definitely.

"Fine," Rath finally snarled, annoyed that he couldn't look at her as he did. "Do whatever you've going to do, but make it fast. We have a job to do, if you're ready to work that is."

Thorn clenched her teeth but said nothing, biting back the retort on her tongue, knowing anything she said at that point was only going to start a fight and in his condition that would only exacerbate things. She needed him healthy so she wouldn't have to explain herself to Ghalt, not because she cared what happened to him. If it were up to her she would have let that Varelsi veil walker have him.

That thought made her flinch a bit internally. She didn't like Verod Rath or what he stood for, his prideful arrogance and flippant discounting of her people made her seethe with rage, but was she truly the sort of being who would let another _die_ for her own selfish satisfaction? Would it satisfy her rage to see him die? It was, in truth, the Varelsi who were responsible for the darkening of her homeworld, Eshteni, so as much as she hated Rath shouldn't she hate the Varelsi more? She did, there was no doubt of that. And deep in her heart she knew, she would never have let those Varelsi kill him without at least trying to intervene.

But she could not help but revel in seeing him laid low and at her mercy, his pride and armor taken from him, his weakness on display. It even made her crack a smirk as she mixed a poultice from scavenged herbs to apply to his raw wound.

After a long moment, as if he'd been thinking about it, he spoke in a more subdued voice, calmer, "Where are my katanas and my vestment?"

That was something Thorn understood. She would feel naked and alone with Kreshek by her side and her custom Eldrid bioweave armor on her back. Any warrior worth their salt would feel that same connection to their weapons and armor, that made sense to her and it might be the first clear common ground she had found with the blademaster.

"They are sitting at your feet."

He immediately stretched out a foot to feel for them, and when he rested a toe on the edge of his vestments he left it there, as if to reassure himself of their presence. That almost made her smirk shift into a real smile. Almost.

"This is going to hurt," she warned him, the poultice was done and ready to apply. She'd prepared it just as Boldur had taught her, mixing all the right ingredients at the right time, infusing it with just the right amount of her own energy and vitality – she may not have been a healer but she'd been taught herblore by the best botanist the Eldrid had to offer, and she trusted that tutelage even if she had never had to actually use it before this moment. It would work. She believed it would work.

Rath tensed in anticipation, but pain was nothing to him. "Do it."

She nodded, though he couldn't see it, and scooped the dark green mixture out of the small stone bowl and rubbed it between her hands, feeling the building heat of the magic it contained. It would burn his skin like hot liquid fire but leave no mark, and close his wound almost completely if it worked the way it was supposed to. It had been applied to her leg once by her adopted Grandfather after she'd cut herself badly during a training excursion – she would never forget the maddening pain of it.

"Rath, don't scream."

Her voice was soft and she sounded so sincere, almost caring, and it made his chest lurch in an odd way. Instinctively he felt like he wanted to say something then, to assure her that he was Verod Rath and could handle having a little leaf juice smeared on him, no need to worry about him. That intention died fast in his throat however as she applied the poultice to his back and he instantly understood her warning. Fiery pain seared his back like a brand being pressed deep into his flesh, burning and melting the tissues surrounding the wound until the were liquid and flowed back together, closing the space. The agony made him dizzy, and he bit down hard on his lip to stop the reflexive need to cry out in pain. He would not give her the satisfaction.

Thorn spread the poultice slowly and deliberately across Rath's wounded back, letting it do its thorough work. It made her fingertips almost unbearably hot but she knew that discomfort was mild at best compared to what he was feeling right now. To his credit he did not make any noise except for an initial gasp, followed by deep breathing that expanded his lungs in his broad chest. He maintained control and focus the way a trained warrior would, his self-discipline both evident and impressive. Having such a positive thought about him made her want to slap herself.

The heat faded from her hands, and from his back too. Rath gave a long exhale while his body went limp – he'd been holding himself incredibly tight for the duration of the treatment, relaxing only when the pain slipped away. She retrieved a cloth of plantweave from nearby and gently wiped away the excess mixture, revealing fresh new skin underneath. There was no trace of the grievous wound he had suffered save the long strip of shiny, blushed flesh that had replaced it. Warmth would linger in the cells there for a few hours and it would remain sensitive and tender to the touch for a few days, but he would be fine. He was healed, Boldur's teachings had served her well.

Rath remained silent as she lightly ran her fingertips over the area, prodding and massaging to check that it was properly solidified and resilient but flexible as real flesh should be. It responded perfectly, the job was done, but she found herself mesmerized by the lines of older scars and curves of muscle on his smooth back, running her fingertips over those as well with a feather-light touch. He had the body of a warrior, there was no denying that.

"Turn over." Thorn commanded softly.

The Keeper of the Blade barely heard her, he was awash with sensation that threatened to render him unconscious yet again. The extreme fluctuation from burning pain to her gentle touch on his back was maddening, almost too much for him to take. But he didn't want her to stop, it was such a soothing thing after what that poultice had done. Yes, that was the reason. It had to be.

" _Turn over damnit!_ I need to check the claw marks on your chest now." This time he registered her words, and rolled up onto his side so he could sit up in place. Such a simple change of position altered his entire perspective on their location and the moment. He could see her now, bathed in the dim blue light of the giant blooms in the tree stretching out over their heads. She'd dragged him to a small grove probably not far from where he'd been fighting for his life, it was naturally sheltered from outside view by the huge triangular plant fronds that grew at the perimeter and all the way up the the trunk of the tree. These fronds were what she had made his cot from, and several of them rolled together served as a sort of pillow. It was not uncomfortable by any means, just unusual to him. The light of the tree's blooms made her hair somehow look even more white so it was practically glowing, her eyes absorbing it so they gleamed brightly. She had removed her own armor, revealing just a plain black bodysuit that clung to her agile form and left both her shoulders, arms, back, and lower legs exposed to the cool night air, her skin impossible smooth and luminous. The Ekkuni warpaint was washed away from her face, leaving her looking startlingly young and sweet. It was a dangerous illusion.

His swords and armor lay just where she'd said, her own armor a few feet away at the base of the tree. She'd stripped him of everything but his leggings, worn underneath the fauld of his Bladekeeper's Vestment – even his feet and head were bare. He watched as her eyes went straight to the Jennerit tattoos that marched up his forearms, lingering there on them as if they reminded her of who he was. And he found that his eyes stayed on her face, studying her as she leaned forward to close the meager distance between them and put her hands on his exposed chest, inspecting the slashes and scratches he had accumulated throughout the duration of the fight. He already knew that none of them were severe and didn't require attention, but he found the protest to her ministrations stuck in his throat. Such a curious feeling. Rath did not stop her.

Thorn could immediately see that the scores on his chest were minimal and already beginning to heal on their own, there was no need for her to look him over further. But her curiosity was piqued now, she had to admit, she had wondered more than once what his body looked like under all that rigid armor. The musculature was well-defined and firm, his skin smooth and pale, and there were scars here too, both faint and obvious. His waist was narrow, his abdominals notably cut, his long arms elegant but strong – Rath's body was impressive, simultaneously reflecting age and youth.

Slowly she withdrew her hands and looked up at him, taken aback to find him watching her intently. There was no apology in his face at being caught looking, of course not. He was such a prideful creature, she doubted he'd ever apologized for anything in his life. His chin was so severe, his mouth more frown than smile, a hawkish nose, a pronounced brow, and deep-set eyes that glinted red even in near dark. There weren't many who would call Verod Rath a handsome man, but something in his face, his form, stirred her. It was impossible that she could feel _attraction_ to him. Right?

A dark line running from his lip caught her eye: blood. He had bitten his lip hard enough to draw blood when she'd applied the poultice. Reaching out to wipe it off was an instinct, done without thought for the patient currently under her care, but the way he froze as she touched his face made her freeze in turn, an awkward explanation tumbling out of her mouth, "Oh, there's just a little, uhm, blood there... On your lips, er, your mouth, was going to..." What was she going to do? Just wipe it away. Yes, that. Of course it was just that. Instead she let her hand fall back to her side. He could wipe it off himself. Her confusion and the way her chest had tightened when he looked at her was infuriating!

She turned abruptly away with a disgusted scoff, mostly directed at herself but he didn't need to know that. "You're fine, get some sleep. We'll go back out on patrol _together_ in the morning." Rath still said nothing but there was a nearly invisible smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. It made her want to punch him.

He laid down on his side, facing away from her and pulling both his armor and his blades up close beside him. Thorn wanted him to say something, anything, and the need made her feel weak and humiliated and angry all at once. What was he trying to do? If he wanted to embarrass her he was succeeding, not to mention succeeding in turning the fragile truce between them back into open verbal warfare by making her feel so stupid. The fact remained, though, that she had screwed up today in not being out on patrol with him to do her job, and he had that on her. She wasn't going to give him anymore ammunition tonight.

Pointedly ignoring him in turn, Thorn leaned across his body and placed a ration pack of water in front of his face, then gathered Kreshek up and moved toward the tree that guarded their little clearing – she never slept on the open ground if she could help it, plus being up high would give her an advantage if anyone or anything came near their camp. She chose a branch midway up, making sure she still had a good line of sight on her partner on the grass. If he wanted to play that game she could play it too. She'd smother him, not leave him alone even for a second until this fucking mission was overwith, so he'd have nothing to say against her and she could throw it in his face that he'd needed her protection. Good plan.

And below her, when Rath reached out for the water and took a long drink, Thorn smiled despite herself.


	3. Dream or Nightmare

**Author's Note: A long chapter! Apologies, but hopefully it will not disappoint. Following chapters will likely be on the shorter side – sometimes I just can't help myself though! Please feel free to leave a review if you like what you read, or if you don't. I'm happy to hear feedback either way :) Enjoy!**

Three 

~O~

She was dreaming, the same dream she'd been having her whole life. The faces of her parents beaming down at her as she came into the world, a child of the ancient Aelfrin born on the soil of their home to continue a bloodline long and proud. Everything was golden and light, an eternal summer afternoon captured in time, that was the beauty of Eshteni. It was perfect, but she knew it was more wish than memory, as those few moments that were the first breath she drew in life were the last breaths she would draw on her homeworld. The cursed Varelsi had arrived only minutes after she'd been born, blotting out their skies and driving the last of the Aelfrin to flee onto evacuation ships in a desperate attempt to survive, including her parents and their new bundle of sorrow. Thorn's boundless rage was born inside her that day as the last true child of Eshteni, and it had only been nurtured since as the Varelsi continued to sweep across the stars and darken them all.

This dream was a mental oasis, a place where she could escape into the lovely tales her parents had spun to describe the home she would never be able to recall for herself, and never see. If she could have stayed there forever in that dream she would have – it was the only place she ever really felt at peace.

Suddenly a spot appeared in the glimmering gold sky of her dream, spreading across it like a terrible bruise. It covered the sun, snuffed out the light of summer, plunging the wilds of Eshteni into shadow as twisted monsters of darkness rained down around them from the void. A terror deep and primal bloomed in Thorn's beating heart, making her gasp for air, knowing there was no escape, that doom had come upon them all...

Thorn awoke with a start, gasping just as she had in the dream, feeling shaken and disoriented. She was still seated firmly on the tree limb she'd climbed up to, but something was wrong. The stiffness in her body told her she'd been asleep for hours and yet it was still dark in their grove when the light of Solus should be lighting the horizon to the north by now, and deathly silent. This night felt unnatural, making her skin prickle and her hair stand on end. She could barely see the outline of Rath's form asleep on his cot but he was there, and a rising sense of urgency prodded Thorn to drop down from the tree to go wake him.

Rath was still laying on his side and she crouched over him, confirming that he was asleep. Something told her there might be enemies nearby so she needed to wake him silently, placing one hand over his mouth and gripping his bicep with a gentle shake to bring him to. She was completely unprepared for his reaction.

The blademaster exploded with movement, swift and sure and brutally strong as he grabbed both her arms and pulled her down against him before rolling them over to press her beneath him, her arms pinned above her head with one of his large, strong four-fingered hands while his other hand had snatched up one of his nearby blades and brought it against her throat before she even knew what was happening. She felt the sting of his hyper-sharp sword just barely breaking the surface of her skin, his eyes two burning pits of red fire as they bored into her, as if he did not recognize her. Her chest heaved against his in short, shocked breaths as she steeled herself not to move, her instincts making her want to struggle but sure if she moved an inch he would cut her. His body weighed heavily along the length of hers, though he was taller, holding her down with ease and his stern face so close to hers their noses were almost touching. The threat of him and the nearness of him sent her brain and body into a flurry of reactions both expected and unexpected, a flush of heat climbing up her legs, over her thighs, up her stomach and across her chest. She felt a faint tremble in her core, in her lips, and silently cursed herself. Was she _afraid_ of him? Was it fear she was feeling in the deepest parts of herself?

Gradually the murderous fire in his eyes faded to a more mellow burn of a different kind, a kind of heat she was hesitant to give name. He was fully conscious now, his initial reaction obviously having been reflex, but he was not letting her up nor was he backing away. He withdrew the blade from her delicate neck with an agonizing slowness and dropped it to the side, reaching back with his newly freed hand to stroke the length of her throat and wipe away the drop of blood he'd drawn. It was such a light touch it sent a thrilling shiver down her spine and a small smile played across his lips as he felt her body's response under him. Still holding her down, Rath then leaned in even closer to her til his mouth was nearly brushing against her long pointed ear, his breath warm. She could smell his skin, like sharp mint and cold steel, making her senses swim with pleasure.

"Never do that again, Thorn." His voice was pitched low and gravelly, and it made her shiver again to hear it.

The sensation of his mouth near her sensitive ear, the rush of his breath across her skin and his being so close to her, it was having a powerful effect on her and she hated it because she was sure that he knew it. She'd only meant to wake him and hadn't realized it would startle him so - if she'd known he was going to react this way she would have woken him with an arrow to the ass. He was taking a great deal of pleasure in this show of dominance, or whatever the hell it was, and she needed to end it. Still, there was a storm of feeling in her chest, in her head, preventing her from doing anything but nodding curtly and attempting to sit up.

Rath released her hands and allowed her to move, sitting back into a kneeling position, and she immediately bolted to her feet as her reliable sense of fury and indignation returned her to her senses. Fast as lightning she shot out one calloused hand and slapped him hard across the face, the sound echoing off the trees in the quiet around them. It nearly knocked him over, forcing him to catch himself on one hand before righting his body, his eyes narrowed and cold as he regarded her.

"You put your hands on me like that again and I will cut them off and shove them down your throat _,_ " she hissed at him, her tone dripping venom, then she spun on her heel to stalk over to where her armor rested against the tree. He watched her wordlessly as she put it on angrily, slapping the bioweave plates on and cinching them with grunts of irritation.

After a moment he followed suit, beginning to don his vestment and trying hard not to think about what had just happened, trying not to look at her again. She was so pissed, which had not really been his intention though it would appear he had been trying to assert his dominance over her. The Jennerit bodyguard had always been a light sleeper and dangerous when woken unexpectedly, reacting much in the way he had with her, but then once he'd come to and realized Thorn was so close, pressed against him, he couldn't help himself. The alluring scent of her had drawn him in, a wild and earthy perfume unlike any of the other more refined women he had bedded in his long life. His body had responded to her unbidden, and he'd felt her body respond to him in turn, which had only turned him on more. He'd barely been able to see her face in the dark but feeling her had been enough.

What the fuck was wrong with him? She was just an Aelfin planetary orphan filled with childish anger who aggravated him to no end! He respected her abilities as a warrior, for he couldn't deny that she was skilled, but her unchecked emotions limited her and he couldn't be attracted to an Eldrid savage. The women he'd taken to bed had always been educated, controlled, with a lady's sensibilities, not an uncouth unwashed ranger who spent all her time in trees. This made no sense. He was determined to push her out of his mind.

So why couldn't he stop thinking about the way her hands on him, the heave of her breasts against his bare chest, the soft curve of her slender neck and his mouth so close...

Rath shook his head and stood abruptly, fully dressed and ready to move. He needed a distraction and he needed it _now._ She was armored and ready too, her longbow in hand and unruly white hair tied back. It only just occurred to him that there was no morning light creeping through the leaves overhead, the dark of night was still heavy in the air and even the glowing flowers overhead had dimmed to being nearly extinguished. His instincts told him that things were off, and he was angry with himself for missing it, for being so caught up in the moment with her that he hadn't realized the situation. What exactly that situation was remained to be seen, but by the tension in her shoulders he knew Thorn sensed it too.

 _That's why she tried to wake me without noise. I am such a jackass._ He would never admit that to her though.

Thorn caught his eye and placed a finger to her lips in a shushing motion before gesturing to the rough path leading back out of the little grove, showing him they needed to proceed quietly and with caution. He said nothing but nodded his understanding, stepping up beside her as she dropped into a half crouch, Kreshek nocked and ready while he had Order and Axiom in hand. Maybe it would be nothing, perhaps they were both overreacting, but they would be prepared.

But nothing could have prepared them for the sight that greeted them as they stepped outside the protective cover of the thick Ekkuni jungle and into the open.

~O~

When Mellka found Boldur the Unbearable he was pacing furiously just outside the the entry that led onto Nova's command bridge, where Kleese spent most of his time when he wasn't in his workshop with Phoebe and Marguis. The lock was glowing with a red light, meaning Nova wasn't allowing anyone else onto the bridge at the moment – it was basically a Do Not Disturb sign. Boldur looked distressed, which was a very unfamiliar expression to see on his usually jovial old face. The purple butterfly that made a home in his beard was desperately trying to keep up with the dwarf, fluttering its little wings as hard as it could.

"What's goin' on gramps?"

He looked up as she approached, throwing his hands in the air in frustration, "Stupid robot brain won't let Boldur come inside to confirm suspicions! Locked Boldur out!" He turned then to pound angrily on the sealed door, shouting, "The great Boldur will break this down!"

Mellka had never seen him in such an agitated state; his beard hadn't even been ruffled when he was the last remaining refugee on an planet overrun with Varelsi and Thrall minions, still cracking jokes and swinging his axe like it was just another normal day. But this... Something was wrong.

"GRAMPS! Cut it out before Nova electrocutes you! Tell me what's going on!" She had to raise her voice to get his attention and snap him out of it.

"Boldur has vision while sleeping in dining hall! Varelsi are coming and Thorn will be trapped on Ekkunar!" He was insistent.

She didn't ask why he was sleeping in the cafeteria, it was unlikely she wanted to know the answer to that. A vision though? Boldur was, without question, the oldest and wisest of the Eldrid Battleborn, their unofficial leader and guiding rock. It wasn't unheard of for attuned Eldrid elders to have premonitions and helpful visions of the future, but it had been a long time since Mellka had heard of anyone actually experiencing such a thing. Then again, she'd grown up in _space,_ not really on Ekkunar,so there was that. The dwarven defender would never make up such a thing though, and it was very apparent that he believed whatever he had seen, dream or vision or whatever it was.

The feeling of dread that had been nagging at Melka's gut suddenly became a stone, heavy and cold and sinking. If Boldur was right...

"Nova open the bridge door now!" She shouted, at no one in particular but knowing the Nova would hear her.

Immediately the ship's built-in AI responded, her tone as cool as ever as it sounded in the hall, "There will be no admission to the bridge until the dwarf calms that mess down." A pause, before adding, "And before I figure out how to properly inform you that your friends are going to die. Oh, I didn't mean to say that out loud, but I don't think I have an internal dialogue. Remind me to ask Kleese about that."

" _What?_ Nova what do you mean _our friends are going to die?_ " Melka sputtered, her hands knotting into fists as her stomach churned with anxiety.

Boldur had fallen strangely silent and was looking at the door, one hand resting on the haft of the runeforged axe stuck onto his back. He was considering how much force it would take to bash that door to pieces, possibly bash all of Nova apart – Mellka knew she didn't have long before the Eldrid dwarf did just that.

"I have been monitoring a solar storm in a nearby vector over the atmosphere of Ekkunar's northern hemisphere for hours, which intensified and inexplicably shifted to lower orbit only minutes ago before engulfing much of the planet's atmosphere. The planet's surface is no longer visible, though my scanners have detected a sudden massive influx of lifeforms and a void paradox at the storm's center. This indicates Varelsi presence, on a large scale, but due to the storm's increasing intensity and size we are unable to approach. We will, in fact, need to move our collective asses out of the frying pan before there's a fire."

Shock and horror stunned Mellka into momentary silence along with Boldur – he'd been right, his vision had been exactly right. But there had to be _something_ they could do, they couldn't just leave Thorn and Rath down there in the middle of a fucking _invasion_!

"NOVA call Ghalt and Kleese up here right fucking NOW!"

"I have already notified them, they will be with you momentarily. Please hold." Dull jazzy music began to play in the wake of her deadpan words, and Mellka scoffed with outrage, "You _bitch_!"

Boldur answered Nova's flippant disregard by wrenched his axe free from it's stump and launching himself bodily against the unyielding door to the command bridge with a bellowing Ekkuni battlecry.

~O~

Thorn thought she _must_ still be dreaming, because this was her greatest nightmare. The vast sky above them was torn open and swirling with dark nameless energies pulled through from wherever the world-eating Varelsi came from. Spawned in some lightless, hellish corner of furthest space, they had crossed the galaxies and the eons to extinguish all the huddled remains of life still clinging among the stars. The very air vibrated, filled with a terrible ominous droning hum that was barely audible but got under your skin, set your teeth on edge, burrowed into your brain. It was the sound of madness, and it was at once familiar to Thorn.

Solus' light was veiled by the storm the Varelsi had ridden in on, casting Ekkunar in an eerie twilight that made the massive void in the sky appear even more ominous. Twisted figures of shadow poured from it like rivers of black blood, Varelsi of varying sizes and shapes in a seemingly endless parade to cover the surface of Ekkunar. Varelsi by the _hundreds_. She'd never seen so many in one place like this, though she knew this was what had happened on her homeworld before it became nothing more than a piece of history recorded in the Eldrid Codex. One word echoed through her shocked brain like the sound of a death knell, and she did not even realize she breathed it aloud.

" _Invasion._ "

Rath, who'd been standing beside her and staring up at the horrifying and hypnotic sight, glanced over at her, a strange tightening in his chest at seeing the grief in her face and the shine of unfallen tears in her eyes. He was not uneducated on the history of the Aelfrin race and their doomed home planet of Eshteni; he knew what had happened there and what she must be feeling right now.

He didn't know what to say, nothing seemed appropriate in the face of their own certain death and the ultimate reminder of what had happened to her people, her home. " _Shit,_ " was all he managed to mutter, before turning back to look at their coming end.

They both also knew enough to realize that Nova and the Battleborn would not be able to navigate the atmosphere to get close enough for a rescue – a dropship would be shredded by the solar storm the Varelsi had somehow used as a cover for their approach. The Battleborn could land on the other side of the planet where the skies were more clear, but with no UPR services and the sheer numbers of Varelsi increasing by the second, it was unlikely they could reach Thorn and Rath in time. From a strategic standpoint Rath had to admire the Varelsi's tactics. It was a brilliant maneuver; they were not the mindless vermin the Battleborn all assumed they were, wanted them to be, hoped they would be. The assumption was a dangerous mistake that they would pay for, dearly.

Thorn wanted to scream, and cry, but pride and an iron will kept her from succumbing to that urge, kept her from simply dropping to her knees as she looked upon the end of the world. But she felt her knees tremble, felt her body sag in the defeat that was inevitable. She could not look away, it seemed the hole in the sky was going to swallow her up. What the entirety of the Varelsi force was doing here all at once, on a burned and evacuated planet, she could not guess. Perhaps somehow those monsters knew there were powerful and ancient secrets of the Eldrid buried beneath the stone here and wanted to mine them for themselves as Rendain had tried to do. Or they had simply come to drown yet another of Thorn's homes in oblivion and render her truly homeless, a tree without root. It felt like the latter.

Suddenly Rath was pulling her toward him, his strong hand encircling her upper arm with force enough to bruise, wrenching her away and back to the reality of the moment. He was saying something, but it sounded muffled and distant to her dazed mind, until she looked at him and he sprang abruptly back into focus. "Thorn! _THORN WAKE UP!_ We have to move! They are coming!"

She turned her head to follow the direction of his pointed sword: the tear in the sky had been miles away, but the first wave was already advancing toward their location, no doubt using their void portals to shorten the distance to travel. It was unclear whether the Varelsi had spotted them or not yet, but that was not a chance they wanted to take and she understood Rath's sense of urgency. Thorn felt it too, and tore her arm free of his grasp so she could surge ahead in a sprint, shouting for him to follow.

She didn't really know where they would go, and part of her thought it was a waste of time to try to deny their fate. It was clear there was no escape. But she also knew that they were both true warriors, it was not in them to lay down and give up. They would die fighting if it came to that. They would kill as many Varelsi scum as they could take with them and make those bastards feel it. Together Thorn and Rath would make them pay for every inch of Ekkunar they took, then die knowing they fought to save something worth the price.

Rath was relying on her to guide them, knowing she was so much more familiar with Ekkunar's jungles than he could ever hope to be and losing the Varelsi in those thick, dense forests was their only hope of surviving. He followed her without a thought, struggling to keep pace with her but determined not to fail in this. The Blademaster would not be a weak link to slow her down. But _damn_ she fast, and so agile, when they hit the treeline she barely slowed and he watched in awe as she slipped over, under, and around the trees and undergrowth ahead of him like a wild creature born of the forest. Meanwhile he stumbled, tripped, and dragged behind her, cursing under his breath with every stubbed toe and scratch of a branch, feeling like Montana in Phoebe's workshop – out of his element.

It became apparent very quickly that Rath wasn't going to be able to keep pace with her once they were inside the jungle, running for their lives. For all his speed and agility in open battle this was not something he had any experience with, and he was falling further and further behind despite what were clearly his best efforts. She knew it must be killing his pride that he was unable to keep up, that he was slowing them down, but she knew what it was like to be a fish out of water, to find yourself in a situation outside of your comfort zone but with no other choice available to you.

Turning back, she slung Kreshek across her chest and ran on light feet to meet Rath. As he reached her she reached out and caught his hand in hers, meeting his eyes briefly but wordlessly, holding onto him tightly as they ran together through Ekkunar's inhospitable forest, Thorn leading them every step of the way.


	4. Rock and a Hard Place

FOUR

~O~

It had taken Ghalt, Mellka, Reyna, and Whiskey working together nearly ten minutes to subdue the raging Boldur while Kleese and Deande stood by giving helpful directions that didn't help at all. By then the Ekkuni dwarf had put a few new dents in both Nova's walls and Whiskey Foxtrot's helmet but was calmed down enough that he was allowed onto the bridge. Soon that calmed rage turned to despair when they all saw that Nova was correct, and his relentless attempts at hailing either Thorn or Rath on their comm devices all failed. Kleese had explained (in a markedly condescending tone) that both solar events _and_ Varelsi presence tended to interfere with interstellar communications, and Boldur blatantly ignored every word as he nearly took his axe to the command console. He settled down again only after Ghalt threatened to tie him up and leave him in the cargo bay for a week.

"If fancy scaredy computer-ship won't take Boldur back to save Thorn from Varelsi scum then mighty Boldur will go alone!" He was inconsolable, completely unwilling to accept that there was nothing he could do.

Reyna understood how he felt, and agreed that they shouldn't give up, but he needed to hear a voice of reason. "And just what are you gonna do hm? Jump out the damn airlock, hold your damn breath and hope the fall doesn't kill your stupid ass if your damn stump don't burn off on the way down?"

"Bwahaha! Stupid!" Whiskey guffawed, drawing a sharp look from Mellka, which only made him laugh harder.

Ghalt interjected before Boldur could respond with his fists, "Everyone shut the hell up! Boldur, you heard Nova and Kleese – the ship would get torn into tiny little glittery pieces, with _us_ inside it, if we tried to land through that shit. It's out of the question. But that doesn't mean we aren't going to do _something_. Those two are part of our crew, they're our friends, and they're down there because I sent them there. We aren't going to just abandon them. But we can't just charge in there, and arguing isn't going to get us anywhere but screwed. So how about we try figuring this shit out like a _team_."

It had the desired effect, silencing everyone at once, though Whiskey continued to snicker softly to himself. This time Mellka smacked him in the back of the head, her hand dinging off his dented helmet sounding loud in the sudden quiet, but it finally shut the mad clone up. Ghalt seemed satisfied, crossing his arms and nodding to them.

"Now, Battleborn, let's come up with a kickass plan. And fast"

~O~

They had been running for hours with few breaks - even Thorn's legs ached, so she could only imagine how Rath's muscles must be feeling, though he was putting on a stoic face. A few Varelsi hunters had crossed paths with them: forward scouts. They'd killed them quickly but there was no way of knowing if those alien freaks communicated telepathically or via hive mind or what, they couldn't assume that the rest of the force had not somehow been informed of their presence anyway. If Varelsi cared about their soldiers then maybe they would even notice their hunters were missing eventually, maybe.

That was part of what made the Varelsi so dangerous, so unstoppable, so terrifying. They were an enigma and even decades of research done by the most talented Eldrid Observers had turned up nothing on them. Attempts to capture them for questioning, even torture, had proved pointless as the Varelsi showed neither emotion nor much reaction to pain: they never spoke, they didn't scream, they barely had enough of a face to show any kind of expression thus making them impossible to read, and their brethren never came to rescue them. Their ultimate motivations and inner workings remained a complete and frustrating mystery to the rest of the galaxy.

It was impossible to tell what time of day it was, everything cast in shade from the storm in the upper atmosphere and the holes in the sky. Solus was nowhere to be seen and the absence of its light weighed heavily on Thorn, making her feel weak and despairing. She hadn't realized until today how much seeing the last star rising every day, no matter where she found herself, had brought her hope and comfort. _It's still out there,_ Thorn told herself. Just because she couldn't see it through the storm didn't mean it was gone forever. There was still hope, even in this desperate situation. There had to be.

Rath's feet were growing heavier by the second, dragging more and more. He was pushing through it because he was a warrior, and he had amazing stamina for terrain that was at once unfamiliar to him and highly challenging to navigate. But they both knew he was going to have to stop soon. Thorn had slowed them down to accommodate him, no longer leading him by the hand but hanging back so he could follow the same path her feet took, choosing the safer and easier passages for his sake. It wasn't necessarily because she cared about him or his stupid pride, it was just that she needed him if they were attacked. And if she was going to have any chance of making it back she needing him for that too, as a stepping stone if nothing else. He had his uses.

She detoured them from their current path into a particularly overgrown patch of jungle, spying the outline of an Ekkuni tree lying on its side. Judging from the way the surrounding flora had overtaken it, almost to the point of making its hulk disappear underneath, she estimated it had been there for a few hundred years. That meant the inside was likely hollow and would be an excellent temporary hiding place so they could get some rest. She crossed her fingers that she was right and grabbed his arm, pulling Rath toward it, "Come on! Quickly!"

The Blademaster shook her hand off and followed silently, a scowl on his angular features. Her need to _lead_ him through the jungle like a child had been infuriating. Even more infuriating had been the reality that he needed her guidance. Each time he'd pulled his hand away from hers in an attempt to follow on his own he'd stumbled almost immediately, feeling the rising heat of humiliation in his face. Rath had expected her to crow and belittle him, to enjoy his shortcoming and celebrate his failure, but to his utter surprise she hadn't really seemed to notice aside from patiently extending her hand to him again every time he brushed her off. It was a different side of the Aelfrin ranger, one he wasn't sure many others had witnessed. The initial panic he'd seen in her had disappeared, replaced by a calm determination and confidence that reassured him – if she was scared, she wasn't showing it.

He helped her tear away a small section of vines covering the downed tree to reveal the end of it was open, realizing she meant for them to take shelter inside it. It was large and hollow, a fact she seemed pleased with, but would still be a tight fit for both of them. His scowl deepened.

"Are you sure we'll both-"

"Yes! We will fit, now get inside before we are spotted, I will cover the entrance and get in behind you. Lay with your feet facing the opposite way, keep your armor on and stay quiet." She cut him off, giving him quick orders as she continued to scan the area around them, obviously nervous about any enemies seeing them.

He hesitated, biting back a sarcastic remark in favor of the urgency of the situation. Instead he removed the large katana from his back and slid all three of his blades in ahead of him before disappearing into the dark hole himself. It was a tight squeeze for the tall Jennerit warrior, but he pushed his way down to the end of the log and managed to turn around before arranging his swords carefully and laying alongside them. He felt decidedly ridiculous. Rath knew he was facing the entrance he'd used but could see nothing through the solid darkness inside, couldn't see Thorn. He found himself listening intently for her, his teeth gritted with the anxiety he felt inside but refused to acknowledge.

A faint scraping sound might have been her, but what the hell was she doing? It wasn't safe to be out there alone. She wouldn't have gotten him to crawl into this fucking hole just so she could bail on him, would she? His tired mind swirled with possibilities. Maybe she was tired of having his dead weight slowing her down and without him she could escape the Varelsi more easily, especially if he was bait to distract them. She _had_ nearly let him be killed by them once already. And it was no secret that she hated him. Perhaps this had been her plan all along, as soon as she'd seen those monsters raining down from the sky. Thorn could be rid of him and no one would ever suspect that he hadn't simply been a victim of the invasion. It was the perfect plan, that Eldrid bitch! Well, Verod Rath wasn't going down that easily!

He'd just started squeezing his way back to the entrance, spurred forward by his inner rage and the silence outside, sure now that she was long gone, when he ran face-first into something wonderfully warm and smooth in the musty dark of the den. It took him a moment to register what his face was pressed against, until her body shifted and he felt the curvature of her neck where it met her shoulder on his jawline, his mouth against the petal-soft skin there. He heard her barely-muffled shriek of indignation and felt the sting of a quick slap on his cheek. Rath backpedaled quickly, putting space between them, wondering how she had possibly gotten inside and gotten that close without him knowing it. Another of her talents that he'd previously been unaware of.

"What do you think you're doing!" It sounded more like an accusation than an actual question, growled through the dark at him. They would only be able to hear one another since seeing was impossible in there and any kind of light source would be like putting up a sign for the Varelsi to follow. Why did he wish he could see her face?

His anger welled up, possibly misplaced but there it was, and there she was. "I was going to check on you, to make sure you weren't AWOL again since you have a tendency to abandon your duties on a whim."

She bristled, moving closer, and he could almost feel it when she did, "I do _not_ abandon my duties, even when they are bullshit waste of my time. Like babysitting an ignorant and inexperienced piece of-"

"Are you calling _me_ ignorant and inexperienced? Do you know who you are _talking_ to you savage ape? I consider it a mark of my superior evolution above your kind that I don't know how to dig up grubs, climb trees, and run through a dirty forest as well as any common animal. Do you know what that makes you, Aelfrin orphan? It makes _you_ an animal!"

Thorn roared in rage and launched herself at him, crashing into the man with all the force she possessed. It caught him off guard and the tight quarters gave her an advantage as she wrapped her long limbs around him and got her arms up around his neck. He was strong though, and far heavier than her – he tried to pry her arms off of him while he slammed her against the wall of the tree, cursing and roaring back. When that didn't work he crashed to the floor with her, pressing his weight down on top of her and hoping it would crush the air from her enough that she weakened and let go.

She did let go, but not in the way he intended. Reading his intention, she'd immediately released his neck before he could get her under him, and swung a well-aimed punch at his prominent chin. It connected hard, making stars burst in front of his eyes in the dark, but the tough bodyguard had been hit like that more times that he could ever have counted, he wasn't so easy to knock out. His well-honed reflexes kicked in and he fell back in anticipation of the followup, so he was ready when she predictably jumped on him again. This time he caught her and gripped her arms tight, twisting them up behind her back as she cried out in pain, the motion bringing her close against his body. He thought he had won, a triumphant smile twitching at the corners of his lips, when a sharp pain in his shoulder made him let go quickly, his fingers going to the spot just below where his armor stopped. They came away damp, and he touched the tip of his tongue to his fingertips – blood.

"You _bitch!_ You bit me!" He was incredulous.

She snarled from just inches away from his ear, somehow closer to him again without him realizing it, "You did say I was an _animal_ , didn't you,"

He felt her move again and he instinctively dropped down low to avoid whatever blow she aimed at him. It whiffed over his head, barely, and Rath tackled blindly in that direction, feeling her agile body take the impact of it and get checked hard into the opposite wall. The breath was knocked out of her but not the fight, and she wheezed as she wrapped those long legs around him, Rath trying but failing to pin her arms to her sides as ancient dirt rained down on them, knocked loose from their fighting.

Thorn suddenly froze in his grasp, going perfectly still and silent. His own intuition told him something was wrong and he too fell silent, holding her against him but not moving. After a long second, hearing nothing, he started to say something, to ask her what the fuck was going on, when her hand came up to cover his mouth before he got one full syllable out. Rath felt her move against him, moving _closer_ so that her chest was pressed against his, her legs still wrapped around his waist where he held her against the wall. Next her mouth was against his ear, her lips actually _touching_ the outside edge of it, sending an inappropriate and confusing thrill down his spine, his body switching from battle response into a completely different mode as he became hyper aware of the position they were currently in...

Her barely audible whisper kept him from dwelling too much on those thoughts, however.

"Shh... There's one outside..." She kept her mouth maddeningly close to his ear, though she relaxed her hand on his face so it wasn't holding his lips shut but just resting there. Apparently she was thinking that any movement at all might alert the Varelsi she had sensed. Rath followed her example and stayed in place, unmoving, trying not to become more and more aware of her legs wrapped around him, her scent, her touch on his face, the inviting curve of her neck just an inch away, the softness of her mouth barely brushing his electrified flesh. This was _not_ the time to be having such thoughts, and certainly not about _her_. Hadn't they just been trying to kill each other only moments before?

It wasn't an unexpected outburst from either of them – they rubbed each other the wrong way, there was no doubt of that. Perhaps Ghalt had even anticipated their verbal exchange turning into a physical brawl. Maybe he'd even thought it was the only way they could work their differences out and get past them, to finally just have it out once and for all. But things had not gone as expected, this was the absolute worst possible time for them to be at each other's throats. How had he let her make him lose his self-control like that? It was most unbecoming of a warrior of his caliber, he should always be in command of himself, be the bigger person. But there was something about Teshka 'Thorn' Elessamorn that made him lose it, she had an effect on him like no woman ever had before. He had baited her knowing it was likely she would attack him in her fury, her temper so well known to all the Battleborn.

Why had he wanted that? And if he hated her, why was it so hard right now not to just forget the danger outside and give in to his urge to put his mouth on her? These strange distractions had to stop. If he could throw her off of him right then without putting them both at risk he would do it.

Gradually she seemed to relax, her hand dropping away and she sat up straighter, beginning to untangle herself from him. He couldn't see her face in the dark but he imagined an expression of strained relief there while those green eyes of hers were filled with fire. There had been only faint scraping sounds outside but those had faded away, replaced now only with silence. It seemed the danger had passed.

Rath started to say something, perhaps an apology. No, he would not apologize. But an explanation of sorts, that it was the tension of the situation that led to his lapse in judgment, and this was neither the time nor the place for him to be pushing her sensitive buttons. He didn't get the chance.

The brittle old tree they were taking shelter in exploded around them in a shower of dirt and wooden shards, scattering the fragments in a wide radius and knocked the two of them apart. They went rolling along the ground, sprawling as they skidded to a stop and stunned from the unexpected force of the blast. Their weapons were scattered as well, Kreshek several feet away while only one of Rath's blades was nearby within his reach, the other two nowhere to be seen. Standing on the other side of where the old fallen log had been only seconds before stood two Varelsi scouts with their powerful energy weapons trained on the two Battleborn.

There was no time to think about what they were doing, their reaction was immediate and just as instinctive as their brawl had been. Thorn and Rath threw themselves to the side, narrowly avoiding taking shots to the chest as the scouts opened fire on them, Rath reaching his katana and snatching it up as he came to his feet. Thorn launched herself into a dive roll in the direction of Kreshek, feeling her hand fit into the grip as she tumbled over it like it was made for her, bringing the bow to bear as she finished her roll and came up on her knees to the right flank of the Varelsi pair. Already her gauntlet was working, her ability to manipulate ambient particles of energy in the air working through the Eldrid tech to create a glowing green arrow of energy on the string.

Rath advanced on their enemies without hesitation, showing none of the fatigue she knew he was feeling as he slashed and defended with elegant ease. She could not admire his form – she needed to be helping. The arrow resting on Kreshek was released, finding a home in the side of the scout nearest her, and she extended her right hand out as she reached deep inside herself, tapping into the boundless well of Aelfrin fury within. The ground underneath them erupted with verdant light, cursing any enemy of Thorn's who touched the blight she summoned, weakening and slowing them so that they were easy targets. Interestingly enough she saw that Rath was uneffected by it, instead seemingly spurred by its appearance to fight even harder to strike down the monsters before him.

He saw the ground begin to glow around them, knowing it was Thorn helping to bring their enemies down quickly and he fought harder while they had that advantage. One of the Varelsi went down from a deep cut across its shadowy middle, unable to recover after being stricken with Thorn's curse, while the remaining alien shot at him from point blank range. Rath swung his blade in a wide arc to deflect a few of the energy bolts but one clipped him in the shoulder, which he ignored to cleave the Varelsi's blank head from its shoulders. There was a rush of air brushing past his cheek as he felt Thorn shoot past him, three arrows sinking at once into another scout that had just stepped out of the brush. Trusting her aim and following her momentum, Rath glided forward and impaled the Varelsi up the his sword's hilt before kicking it off as it started to disintegrate. .

The light of her blight faded away, leaving the ground slightly scorched underfoot, and they both stood quietly, waiting. It was silent again for the moment, but there was no time to waste. More would be coming – they had made quit the racket.

Rath made a quick run of the area to find his swords while Thorn located her pack, only slightly worse for wear. They would desperately need the water and rations it contained if the next part of her plan to save their asses went accordingly. She hoped it went better than her idea to take temporary refuge in that damned tree. So much for a rest.

He noticed Thorn was holding her side when he came back to her, and she briefly removed her hand to give him a glimpse of the wound there – one of the scouts had scored a hit on her at some point, though he hadn't even heard her cry out. It wasn't particularly deep and the energy bolt had cut through her armor to burn the skin underneath, leaving a wound much more serious than the graze he'd received. She waved off his unspoken concern though, keeping her hand over it and leading them away from the newly blasted clearing.

They were off again, both chastised into a temporary truce and shut up by their absurd earlier behavior. It had nearly gotten them killed and put them closer within the reach of the main Varelsi force. A huge and costly mistake that was caused by their pride alone. But damned if he didn't just make her want to tear his venomous tongue out of his head so he couldn't insult her and her people any more! He knew what he was doing every time he pushed her, and she couldn't help but last out. What else was she supposed to do? She didn't have a talent for delivering withering verbal insults with a lilting laugh and a smile the way Phoebe could, or possess Reyna's witty jeering sarcasm. And unlike the always-cool Deande she couldn't just let it roll off her back. Damn Verod Rath, he knew how to piss her off and he seemed to enjoy doing it. But this was not the time, and if he couldn't control himself then at least she could. She had to.

Traveling off the path for awhile, Rath noticed that the wilderness was slowly thinning out, the soil underfoot growing a bit sandier and looser. The jungle canopy was less dense here, showing patches of blotchy bruised sky through it. He was grateful for the ease of travel, not having to rely on her to help him keep up, but if Thorn was leading them into a more open region of Ekkunar that might be a problem. It would be much harder to hide from the Varelsi out there.

He also noticed as they walked that she was trying hard not to let her pain show, and he respectfully pretended he didn't see it. He didn't like her but she was tough, he had no doubts she could easily tolerate the pain of a flesh wound and wouldn't want his sympathy. Not that he felt any. Rath just hoped if they got into another scrape that her injury wouldn't make her too vulnerable. That was the last thing they needed.

Another hour passed and they came to the sparse edge of the forest, where the plant life gave way to a vast stretch of golden desert. Rath knew Ekkunar had a few arid desert regions on its strange shattered surface but had never seen it before. It was wide, expansive, intimidating, dark and jagged mountains rising up from its flat plain far in the distance. It was strangely beautiful in a wild, rugged, simplistic way. He could appreciate that kind of beauty. But just what good Thorn thought crossing a desert was going to do them he couldn't guess.

Rath glanced over at her just as she expected he would, puzzlement and exhaustion reading plainly in his grim face. He didn't ask but she knew he was waiting on an explanation for how this was going to help them. The answer was a complicated one, mostly in that she didn't even know for certain it would work. That wasn't what he needed to hear at the moment though.

She extended one arm to point to the distant mountains and he followed the line of her finger to see them looming up against the clear sky there in stark relief.

Wait, _clear sky_?

Rath's heart sped up in his chest. It was far away and difficult to see from their current position, but it was definitely there – the sky over those mountains was _clear._ No solar storm, no Varelsi void blooms, no darkness. How was that even possible?

She clarified for him, "Those mountains mark one of many rifts along the surface of Ekkunar. It's extremely unstable land, but Boldur taught me that the nature of the energy around those rifts repels most natural phenomenon both in the atmosphere and above it. Storms always split around them, and I don't think the Varelsi can use their portals there. I don't think."

"And you think that Nova might be able to reach us through that rift, pick us up there?" Rath tried not to sound as hopeful as he felt.

Thorn nodded. "Yes, but she cannot land there. The ground would break apart under her, so it would be... tricky. But possible. I hope you can jump better than you can run, Jennerit." She flashed him a smirk that bordered on playful and Rath almost laughed. It was unexpected, and that she capable of surprising him was a pleasure.

This plan was crazy, borderline suicidal, and the best idea he'd heard all day. It may not work but there was a chance, and it was certainly better than standing there waiting for thousands of Varelsi to catch up to them. He had a weird urge to pick her up and spin her around but quickly batted it down. Instead he extended his arm out in the direction they would be going and gave a half bow to her, his eyes raised to meet hers meaningfully.

"After you, Lady Elessamorn." It was as close to an apology as he'd ever get.


	5. Drowning

***Author's Note* Sorry about the delay on this chapter guys - I had a crazy weekend! Finally got a chance to get back to this, and boy this chapter took a lot out of me but it's my favorite one yet. So I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think! And I haven't had time to edit it yet so please forgive any typos you might come across :) Read on!**

FIVE 

~o~

Thorn had slowed to a pace that Rath easily matched, even finding himself stalling every few strides so that he didn't get too far ahead of her. He knew it was the wound in her side slowing her down but she was too stubborn to admit it and there wasn't anything to be done for it anyway: he certainly had no healing ability and stopping out in this vast open space where they were so vulnerable was suicide. They needed shelter, a real rest, but all he could see were miles of open wasteland. And those mountains still so far away in the distance.

Every mile they traveled didn't seem to be taking them any closer to their destination, just deeper into their reserves of stamina. She had explained that it was a trick of the landscape, it being so flat and featureless made distance and travel time seem disproportionate. "At least there's no real daylight out here – we'd be cooked like geese by now," she'd commented, which Rath did not find the least bit reassuring. And besides that, did the Eldrid eat _geese_?

Besides him Thorn paused, still holding her free hand tight against her side. He thought he saw a glint of wetness between her fingers, the wound still bleeding freely, but she continued covering it. He wasn't going to press her on it. If she insisted she was fine it was none of his business until it started effecting him directly.

Still, Rath found himself trying to get a better look at it. There might be _something_ he could do for her if she would just let him...

"Wait, there," she pointed to a patch of ground in front of them that, to his eye, looked just like every other bit of the land surrounding them. Sand, sand, and more fucking sand. Occasionally bones, or a few stones, but mostly just sand. This area was distinguishable only in that it was strangely smooth by comparison, the ground sloping downward into a sort of shallow depression that actually looked inviting. Rath imagined it would be a moderately comfortable spot to set up camp, or take a nap in. Was that what she meant?

"We can't stop here, it's too exposed tactically."

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Idiot, no, _look_." With her bare toe she kicked a small stone out into the smooth sand, and Rath watched as it was instantly swallowed up and sank out of sight. The surface of the sand settled back into place as if nothing had happened. Just great.

"These sand traps are scattered all around out here, this is the first one I have seen. You need to know what they look like, keep your eyes open. If you fall into one you are beyond help." Thorn led the way around the edge of the trap, so he could see the subtle difference between it and safe ground.

"Just one more thing trying to kill us. This whole cursed _planet_ is a death trap!" He followed her, giving the pit a wide berth just to be safe.

Thorn shot him a glare over her shoulder, trudging onward even as she looked back at him, "This death trap is my _home_ , and home to many Eldrid who would do anything to have it back. I watch Ekkunar disappear into the Varelsi shadow behind us, yet another home lost to them, and you're _insulting_ it as it burns? Have you no shame, Jennerit? Is there nothing in this universe that means so much to you?"

Her words cut him, and so too did their sincere delivery. The message was one of anger but her tone was sad and quiet, not the spitting rage that was so much easier to brush off. Such grief was pooled in her fathomless green eyes as she searched his face for real answers, Rath could feel it pulling at him.

In truth, there weren't many things the Blademaster cared that much about and her unknowingly being so close to the mark with her question caused an uncomfortable tightening in his throat. He had left the Imperium and his position as an elite royal guard with the Keepers of the Blade for their revered Empress Lenore after she was unseated by Rendain in the coup – he had cared about his duty in protecting the Empress. He had cared _more_ about the respect, prestige, opportunity for advancement, and time to hone his skills as a warrior that the position had afforded him. All that had gone down the drain when their fellow Jennerit took over and allied himself with the Varelsi, and Verod Rath knew he could not serve such a twisted master in pursuit of madness. The day he fled the Imperium to join the Battleborn he had felt real loss for the first time in his long life.

He had grieved for the loss of what they, the Jennerit, had built, all broken apart so easily by the misguided actions of one fool. In its own way that place had been his home. Did that compare to the losses and struggle Thorn had known? Perhaps not. But perhaps he could be more sympathetic to her pain. Perhaps he knew more about what that felt like that he let on.

Rath had been looking down, lost in thought, and he decided he wanted to say something to her, though he had no idea what. He looked up at her back and opened his mouth, knowing he should to just say it, when Thorn clutched her side and stumbled a few strides ahead of him. She wavered a brief second then began falling forward - he couldn't see her face but the seasoned fighter knew the body language of a faint when he saw it. That damn wound and her stubborn pride had finally gotten to her. They didn't have time for this.

As she hit the ground Rath started toward her, intending to get her up and awake quickly so they could keep moving, but he gasped in surprise and horror as the sand she landed on immediately started swelling up around her and dragging her unconscious body down into its depths. She had tumbled face-first into one of those very damn traps she had warned him about.

Without a thought in his head except that he had to do something, Rath dropped his blades and threw himself forward to the edge of the pit. Already her left side was disappeared beneath the sand, one leg gone and the other slowly slipping deeper into it. Kreshek was still clutched tightly in the gauntlet of her right hand and he grabbed for that before it could disappear too, dragging the bow and her arm closer to him in hopes he could pull her out that way. Just then her hand loosened and the longbow came free, leaving Rath holding the weapon as Thorn's body was dragged down out of sight, the ends of her long white hair floating eerily on the flawless surface of the sand. Then even that trace of the Aelfrin woman was gone.

Rath felt his heart lurch in his chest, his gut wrenching and his throat burning like he'd just swallowed acid, a strangled and uncontrolled cry of defiance escaping his lips, " _No_!"

He did not hesitate then, throwing the bow aside and grabbing his blade Axiom, plunging it hard into the solid ground at the edge, hooking his booted feet around it to keep himself anchored. Then he leaned forward into the pit himself, sinking his own arms into the deadly sand where he'd seen her disappear. The razor edge of Axiom immediately bit through his boots into his flesh but he ignored that pain, instead focusing on pushing deeper into the sand, his long fingers extended blindly to try and brush against any part of her he might get a grip on. Submerged up to his shoulders but still feeling nothing, he had no choice but to hold his breath and let his whole upper body go under so he could stretch further out.

It was black and cool beneath the sand, the suction of the pit powerful and immediate, trying to drag him away from his anchor. But Axiom held, he must trust that it would hold. _He had to find her._ One minute longer and she would drown, she would be so deep he could not hope to reach her. She would die.

A fresh wave of panic fluttered wildly in his chest, his lungs straining as they began to demand that he take a breath. He knew if he had to pull himself out for air without finding her first she would be lost, so he fought the urge and groped downward in the crushing darkness, desperate to feel her there, desperate to save her.

~O~

Nova's command bridge was quiet and Ghalt sat in his captain's chair watching the many digital readouts and scans constantly popping up on the holoscreens. They glowed like beacons in the otherwise dim light, most of their information unchanged – it was night and most of the others had retired to their quarters after hours of brainstorming. All their planning had not gotten them as far as he'd hoped but at least they had something, a wild shred of a fool's plan to try and save their people. He had ordered Nova to set a course and slowly move them into the position they would need to execute that plan (and she had made sure everyone knew how stupid she believed this course of action to be), then Ghalt had ordered everyone to get some rest. It wouldn't help anybody if they were all falling-down-tired.

Mellka and Boldur had stayed behind, insisting they could nap in the other chairs on deck, but they wanted to be there if anything changed. She had thought the old dwarf wouldn't be able to sleep since he was so anxious and this crazy plan was almost all his idea, but he'd surprised her by curling up in one of the oversize chairs and pulling his long green beard up over his eyes, falling fast into a noisy snoring sleep while his little butterfly friend perched on the tip of his ear to rest as well. It was comically sweet, and no one who saw this and didn't know the Battleborn Eldrid's de facto leader would think him to be a harmless and whimsical creature. They wouldn't know how wrong they were until he'd cleaved their skull in two with his runeforged axe.

She had tried to sleep but it was no use, her eye was continually drawn to the screen that kept track of Battleborn life signs via the comm devices they all wore. They were Kleese's tech, and powerful enough that they could send and receive signals from anywhere within nearby space as long as they were all on the same plane of existence and there were no interfering factors, like large Varelsi presence or extreme cosmic events. Naturally in this case it would be _both_ keeping them from getting a read on Thorn and Rath's location on Ekkunar. They just couldn't catch a break. The signals that should have been transmitted by their comms were dead in the water, reporting no activity, no heartbeat, no coordinates, as if they had ceased to exist.

Mellka frowned and clenched her fists tight – she would not accept that they were dead. She knew them both, and there was just no way. Rath may have often been an insufferable asshole but the man was a warrior in a class few could match, even among the Battleborn. And Thorn was a fucking _survivor_ if ever that word meant anything. They were still out there, they had to be. And maybe, just maybe, Boldur's plan would work.

The light from the console cast flickering shadows across Ghalt's tense face as he continued to search for any sign to follow. His dedication touched Mellka, and she got to her feet, crossing over to stand beside his chair and lean one hand on his broad shoulder as she turned to watch the screen with him. She was so petite, and he was tall, that even him sitting and her standing beside him they were almost at the same height.

"Ya know, you should get some rest too Cap. What is it you said? You won't be any use to us if you fall over dead?" She teased him lightly, trying to get him to be himself in spite of the grim situation.

He relaxed a bit under her hand, looking over at her, "That _isn't_ what I said. You got a talent for twisting my words Mel."

'What can I say, I amaze even myself!"

He did laugh then, leaning back in the chair, crossing his legs at the ankles as he stretched out a bit. "There's that legendary modesty!"

"Hey," she huffed playfully, "there's no room for modesty when you're saving the world big guy."

Ghalt pulled a large, pungent cigar from his inner coat pocket and stuck it in the corner of his mouth, chewing it thoughtfully but not lighting it. He knew better – if he dared light it there Nova would wake the whole crew and half the star system with her epic fit. "Damn straight."

She grinned, catching a glimpse of the man who had first convinced her to join the fight for Solus, to believe in something again and stand their ground, to reclaim their little corner of the universe. A man she would follow to the ends of the stars, and indeed had. And if they died today, or any other day, Mellka wouldn't regret a moment of it.

Her unusually reflective mood made her feel a ripple of unexpected emotion, pricking at her eyes and spurring her to move her hand to gently touch the back of Ghalt's neck. He didn't seem surprised by the caress, even leaning back into it slightly and exhaling a long sigh, "Mel,"

She interrupted, not wanting to hear him tell her that they couldn't do this, that he was her Captain and the leader of Battleborn and there was just no way it could ever happen. She knew all that, and that knowledge was the very reason neither of them had ever discussed what they both knew was hovering between them. There was no need to bring it to light just to have it crushed under the weight of duty and responsibility and war. Maybe someday when it was all over, when the war was won and the stars were all safe. If they weren't dead by then.

"So do you think this dumbass plan we concocted has any chance of actually working?" A fumbling change of subject but she knew he wouldn't persist if she steered the conversation elsewhere.

Ghalt looked up at her for a long moment, his eyes meeting hers and staying on them, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. He understood her, she understood him, there was no need to discuss her obvious avoidance. But she saw something else there too – regret. It made her angry and it made her want to kiss him, or punch him, she wasn't sure which. Maybe both. Either way she doubted it would do any good. Their friendship had never moved past that line, they had only ever embraced and even that was mostly in the fraternal spirit of a victory. Sex was one thing – she'd had plenty of that when she wanted it, with partners who were fun, or interesting, or dangerous, or submissive – but what she felt for Ghalt was something else entirely. She'd never denied its existence, and it had grown so gradually she wasn't even sure when her admiration and respect for him had deepened into this, but she could never pursue it. And even if he felt the same way, he was too dedicated to his leadership to cross that line. Even with her.

One of his big hands came up to brush her wild bangs aside, and he allowed one finger to very lightly trail down her cheek before he pulled away and turned back to look at the multitude of screens. That tiny bit of contact had been like sliding into a hot spring, infusing her entire body in a warmth that seeped into her very bones. Damnit, that was going to be hard to shake off. She'd be thinking about that one touch for days! _Thanks a lot Trevor!_

"I don't know, honestly, it does sound crazy as hell but so does just about everything else we've ever tried if you say it out loud. You ever heard anything about this rift-hopping Boldur was talking about?"

She shook her head, "I didn't grow up on Ekkunar really, so all that local mumbo jumbo is a little outside my wheelhouse. Just because I never heard of it doesn't mean it won't work exactly like Gramps says though. He knows so much about that place that he might as well be a walking Codex. So I say we trust him on this. It is the only chance we've really got anyway, isn't it?"

He ran a steady hand over his fatigue-lined face, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I wish we had more information, but yeah, this is the shot we've got. We're gonna take it. And with any luck Boldur knows Thorn as well as he thinks he does and she'll lead them to where we need them to be. We won't be able to stay in there long. So much could go wrong. But if we don't try..."

Mellka slung a comforting arm around his shoulders, leaning her hip into him in a half-embrace, prompting Ghalt to raise his arm and put it around her waist, hugging her close against his side. They took strength from each other, like friends. Because they were.

Neither of them said anything more as they drifted into a close, comfortable silence, both lost in thought.

~O~

Rath's lungs were burning and screaming with the need for breath, even Axiom beginning to slip from its place in the ground as he strained as far as he dared, knowing every second that ticked away made his efforts more and more pointless. She was gone, he should accept that and at least ensure he didn't die too, for nothing. Even Thorn would tell him he was being stupid, stubborn, his refusal to give up when he was obviously beaten just another of the countless flaws she had accused him of. But she was right. Verod Rath didn't know how to give up – he never had. And damned if he was going to give up on her.

With one final effort Rath stretched downward, arched his back until it felt like it might snap, using every ounce of strength left in his arms to sweep them in wide arcs through the sucking sand below him. It was like trying to move through tar but his muscles were those of a honed and powerful warrior, he pushed through it with the same intensity and determination that he had pushed through the thousands of hours of excruciating training that had turned him into a Blademaster.

He covered as much space as he could at once, dizziness beginning to set it as his brain starved for oxygen – he was out of time. Just as it reached the moment where he must decide to die here or to finally give in, his knuckles brushed against something rigid and warm in the cold black depths, something that was decidely _not_ sand. Instantly his hand grabbed for it, latching on with a deathgrip and hauling whatever it was toward him through the undertow, simultaneously tensing the muscles in his legs and pulling himself back toward where his bleeding feet were wrapped around his sword-anchor.

The muscles at the core of his body strained and trembled, every muscle along the length of his legs and arms and back shaking with the effort, but slowly he made progress. He could feel open air on his back, a few more inches and he pushed up til his head broke the surface again and he drew in a desperate ragged breath, gasping like a landed fish. But there was no time to enjoy the sweet sensation of air in his lungs again, instead he focused on dragging himself up out of the pit whilst holding on tightly to his prize so he could pull it out behind him. It was heavy and solid, dragging and threatening to keep him down; it _had_ to be her.

Braced against the edge, Rath ignored the pounding fear in his veins and stared at the shifting sands as he pulled with all his might, willing Thorn to appear. And when a flash of gold emerged, followed quickly by a slender shoulder and then a long arm, her hair filled with sand but still somehow so white, he coughed and gave a short sob of pure relief. What he'd felt down there was the protruding pauldron section of armor on her shoulder, and thankfully her interwoven Eldrid armor was nearly impossible to get off simply by pulling at it. It had stayed intact even as he dragged her all the way back to him.

He got her body up out of the sand, rolling her away from the edge of the trap as he got himself the rest of the way out before rushing to her side. She was lying so still on her back, eyes closed and chest motionless, it was clear she wasn't breathing. This was not something he was prepared to deal with. Despite Miku's insistence that all the Battleborn be trained in basic first-aid, initial emergency medical response, and battlefield triage care, Rath had deemed it a waste of his time and energy. He had found ways to dodge it, or mentally checked out the few times he couldn't get out of a lesson. Now he thought he might never regret anything so much as those seemingly harmless choices. Had he saved her only to watch her die here in front of him?

Rath kneeled at Thorn's side and reached to unfasten her armor with unsteady hands, pulling it away from her upper body. The day Miku had taught them how to manually resuscitate a person who had drowned, or otherwise stopped breathing, the Jennerit Blademaster had instead occupied his mind with meandering thoughts of what Deande might look like naked since she was his partner in the class. He didn't remember much because he hadn't paid much attention and didn't think he needed to know how to save a life – he was a warrior, a killer, _taking_ life was his business.

He had to try though, what little he remembered might be enough, maybe Thorn's natural Eldrid regeneration would do the rest.

With her armor out of the way, Rath rested his palms on top of one another in the center, feeling for the place where her robs met. He could not feel her heart beat there and that spurred him on, beginning to compress her chest rhythmically though he wasn't sure how many times he was supposed to do it. And he knew he was supposed to be breathing into her, trying to reinflate her lungs or something, but at what point did that need to happen?

 _Fuck it,_ he thought, tilted her head back and parting her lips so her mouth was open to him. He jolted her chest a few more time then leaned down and pressed his mouth against hers, exhaling long and slow until he had no more breath to give. He alternated compressions and breathing into her a few more times, checking for a pulse and getting no response Rath went right back to it. He'd thought about her lips against his more times in the last few days than he cared to admit, but this was not the way he had imagined that happening. This was not what he wanted. He wanted her to wake up and punch him for stripping her armor off, for touching his lips to hers, he wanted to see fiery indignation in her eyes and hear her hurl insults at him for the perceived violation.

" _Thorn,_ don't you die on me you bitch!" He pounded her chest again, trying to kickstart her heart. The wound in her side had stopped bleeding but still her chest did not stir, and now it had been a few minutes without her breathing. He knew that was not good. But she was stronger than this. She had to wake up!

"THORN!"

He pushed as much air into her lungs as he could manage, over and over, striking her chest repeatedly to no avail. There was no change. Hopelessness finally crept over his exhausted body and made him drop his arms to his sides in defeat, his head lowered to her chest. It was over, he had failed. His eyes closed and he felt himself shaking, felt the disbelief that she was here but gone, her fury finally and utterly extinguished. And all because he had not been quick enough, because he hadn't found her soon enough or paid enough attention to Miku's lifesaving lessons. Because when she was so clearly hurt he hadn't forced her to stop, to take better care of herself, had not told her she didn't need to act tough in front of him and pretend she was fine.

For failing her, Rath deserved to die here on the planet she had called home. He would not run and he would not leave her here. Steeling himself and prepared to protect even Thorn's body from the Varelsi until he was overtaken, the Jennerit raised his head and looked back the way they had come. Silently, wracked inside with emotions he did not even fully understand, he watched the encroaching tidal wave of darkness taking over the land and lapping at the far edge of the desert. With one hand resting on her chest, over her heart, Rath did not look away from the doom that would wash everything away, waiting for them to come so he could make them pay before he died.

And so he did not see when Thorn's white eyelashes fluttered faintly as he eyes creaked open, he did not feel her heart slowly begin its work again, her lungs finally draw in a tiny breath as her body and mind clawed their way back to the waking world. Every inch of her ached, her shoulder felt like a knot of bright pain and she vaguely thought it might be dislocated, and the grit of sand scraped at her tongue and in her throat. She was disoriented but the Aelfrin woman knew what had happened to her. She also knew how she got out, against all odds, and was alive to lay here staring up into the ruined sky.

He was looming over her like a sentinel, his profile in the twilight still so sharp and defined, his eyes turned away to the path that had brought them here. Though he was not looking at her she thought she saw that his red eyes shone with a swirl of emotions, pain and guilt, and perhaps even grief, marked his stoic face. One of his hands rested on her chest, heavy and warm and protective, but she felt a faint tremble in his fingers, sensed a barely contained sorrow emanating from him as he stared unblinking into the distance. As if he were trying hard not to look at her. That grief in his eyes, in the downturned edges of his mouth...Was that grief for _her_?

Slowly Thorn reached up and laid a weak hand over his where he touched her, and she forced her ravaged throat to whisper only two words, though they were weighted with a thousand other words she might never give voice to.

" _You idiot._ "


	6. Surfacing

SIX 

~o~

He heard her voice before he registered her light touch on his hand, the sound of her words so quiet and yet it shook him like a roll of thunder. Relief flooded his veins, Rath choking down a strange hitch in his throat as he turned with disbelief to look down at her. The Aelfrin woman met his eyes with her own, though they were only half open and misty with the fog of the newly awakened. Truly, in all his life, he'd never been so happy to be called an idiot.

"Thorn," he said her name then faltered, not sure what he meant to say to her, what he really wanted to express. Instead he elected to take her hand in his and give it a brief squeeze, managing a small smile that belied the multitude of thoughts and feelings running through him. Those were things he neither understood nor was willing to give further consideration – it seemed like a dangerous path to start down, even for a man who had never shied away from danger.

When he tried to draw his hand back she kept it, her fingers lightly interlacing with his, and he caught himself staring at the slender grace of her digits, the lovely contrast of her bronzed skin against the pallid wash of his own. But he realized quickly the gesture was intended to gain his attention, so he looked back up into her green eyes, feeling his heart kickstart under his ribcage.

"You saved me, didn't you," She was quiet and subdued but there was no question in her face as she regarded him carefully. The Blademaster didn't say anything – she already knew the answer.

She started to sit up, wincing, and his instinct was to tell her to stop, lay back down, to just rest, but an unwilling part of him was still aware that this was not a safe place and they were running out of time. As much as he wished they could just sit here together... Helping her seemed to be the smarter course of action so he slipped one arm around behind her back to gently assist her effort, his other hand staying in hers for the moment. Rath thought she might drop the matter and they could just move on, forget it ever happened, but Thorn obviously had other ideas.

Once she was sitting upright and looked steady he removed his arm's support and tried to put a respectful amount of space between them – she was sitting so close, her head just under his chin and their entwined hands falling to rest on top of her thigh. The proximity made him feel tense, nervous, like there was some magnetic force between them and if he didn't get away there would be no resisting it. But when she reached out with her free hand and caught hold of his collar, her hair brushing the underside of his prominent chin as she tilted her head to look up at him, the thought of moving away from her was swept aside. A feeling of weakness that was at once foreign and pleasurable crept into his limbs as he looked down into her face, the beauty that she was so unaware of all the more striking because of the gratitude he saw there, her eyes misted and shining.

"Rath, thank you. I owe you my life." Thorn spoke so softly, a gentleness in her voice that he had never heard before and would never have thought she was capable of. She surprised him.

Her eyes searched his face, lingering on his mouth as if she waited for him to speak, or... But his voice was stuck in his throat, the magnetism of her drawing him in so powerfully he was sure he was about to do something insane, something he wouldn't be able to take back or fight his way out of. Whatever was happening here between them was robbing him of the ability to think clearly, to focus. That was unacceptable, and he must break it before it consumed him.

The air felt thin, his lungs struggling to draw a full breath with his stomach in knots. It took every ounce of willpower he could muster to finally clear his throat and put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her out to arm's length and giving her a quick pat on the head before jumping to his feet. "It was nothing – only a matter of time before I had to save your ass. You know, for a sniper you'd think you might have seen that sand trap right in front of you."

He could see the shift in her face as she closed off to him again, slamming the door that the moment had opened between them, her eyes narrowing and her jaw tensing. She ignored his offered hand of assistance, climbing shakily to her feet on her own and brushing the sand out of her long hair. "Fuck you Jennerit," she muttered, retrieving Kreshek. It was a halfhearted curse though, spoken almost with an edge of sadness and none of her usual venom. When she turned her back on him and started slowly walking toward the mountains again he felt a strong urge to grab her arm and pull her back to him, to tell her she was welcome and he would save her a thousand times if she needed it, to tell her how it had felt to think he had failed her.

None of that came out. He couldn't allow it. Control. Always control. It was the way of the warrior. And something about Thorn made him lose that hold on himself. He must master himself again, master his feelings and not give them any further consideration. It didn't matter what they meant – all that mattered was a great warrior must be in control of himself. This is the way it had to be.

Night had fallen but Thorn almost couldn't tell the difference, except that she could not see as far into the distance ahead or behind them. The advancing darkness of the Varelsi had disappeared into a haze of deeper twilight but she knew it was still out there, still coming their way, and somehow not being able to see them was even worse. At least when she could see them out there she had an idea of how much time they had.

Her accident was a humiliation and had set them back by an hour at least, putting them in a potentially bad situation. The experienced ranger blamed herself for that, but she was finding it hard to think of anything at the moment but Rath's actions. He had saved her at great risk to himself, and she'd seen the look in his eyes when she woke up, had felt the gravitational pull between them when she'd thanked him. She was not a fool and knew enough to realize his sudden falling back into his typical arrogant behavior and ridiculing her in such a vulnerable moment was a defense mechanism. Thorn may have been a 'savage' raised in the wild jungles of Ekkunar, but she knew a man in denial when she saw one.

But just what was he denying? Perhaps the Jennerit elitist was beginning to see that she had value beyond what he had initially assigned to her people, and was having difficulty accepting that. Something told Thorn it was not that simple though. When she had looked up at him, their eyes meeting and their bodies so close, his arm around her back so _gentle_ , she could have sworn he started to lean in before pushing her away. Surely that was only her imagination.

Her natural Eldrid regeneration continued to work in her favor, she felt stronger by the minute. She pulled a water pack from her bag – it had somehow stayed on her waist while she was in the trap, but much of its contents had fallen out. They were down to one water pack plus half of another, and one ration. It would have to do. And if they were going to make it to those mountains and execute the plan she was thinking of they would need their energy.

With that in mind Thorn cracked the seal on the UPR-issued water pack and took a deep drink before passing it silently to Rath, who was walking beside her. Their fingers brushed as he took it, a fact they both ignored. While he drank she opened the sole ration and handed it to him, taking the water back when he held it out. She intended for him to eat the entirety of it: Rath was much bigger than her, unaccustomed to going without food for any significant period of time, and being a melee fighter he would expend much more energy in a fight than she would. It was simple logic. But the Blademaster did not hesitate to break the ration in half and hand the slightly larger portion back to her. Thorn didn't really even have a chance to refuse, he left no room for refusal. So they both just ate their part and kept moving forward.

Rath made a small noise in his throat that made her glance over at him, just in time to see him make a sour face and nibble reluctantly at the edge of his portion. "This is disgusting," he muttered under his breath, drawing a hearty laugh out of Thorn. The unexpected outburst seemed to startle him, but seeing her laughing at his displeasure with their food options made a smile quirk at the corners of his mouth. "'What?"

Thorn composed herself just barely enough to articulate words, "Is the meal not to your liking, your highness?"

His smirk widened as he felt a laughter bubble up in him as well, and it occurred to him that when she laughed like that she looked so relaxed and warm, so irresistible. It was a shame the fierce Eldrid archer so rarely let herself do it. Her laugh was delightful and infectious.

"I'm just saying, there's definitely room for improvement."

She giggled again and shook her head, "We'll be sure to bring the flavor of the UPR's emergency rations to the Captain's attention when we get back. I'm sure it will be made top priority." Thorn ate the last bit of her own portion, swallowing it down. She'd eaten worse things.

He choked his down as well and she gave a renewed fit of laughter at the grimace on Rath's face as he did so, though she thought he might have dramatized his reaction for her benefit. Thorn handed him the water through her giggles and he gladly took several swigs of it before wiping his mouth.

"I think I'd rather eat sand," he lamented, and she patted his shoulder consolingly.

"Well if that's the case just look around you – I think that can be arranged."

This time Rath gave a deep laugh and the sound sent a shiver of pleasure down her back, putting a smile on her face. He should laugh like that more often.

They walked on, the mountains gradually growing closer, looming higher in the gloomy sky. And this time when silence settled between them it was the comfortable kind.

~O~

When the twin blips of light had appeared on Nova's scanners Ghalt thought he was seeing things. But a quick check of the systems and a double check-in with Nova confirmed that it was legit – Rath and Thorn's biochips were showing up on radar again. And they were _moving_. These chips were basically a simple tracking device he had each of his Battleborn implanted with so that if ever their comms went offline or couldn't be used for some reason they would always be able to find their teammates in space or on mission. It was been an exceedingly useful little trick, helping them keep tabs on one another when they needed to be aware of one another's location but couldn't risk communications. The chips were Phoebe's design and nigh indestructible, they were only going to fail if a Battleborn was dead or received a supersurge of electricity through their body, in which case they'd still probably be dead.

But like all technology, the little implants had their flaws. Like the comm devices they used, Kleese explained that some phenomena could disrupt their signals temporarily and there was no way of forcing them to start resending sooner. It was a waiting game. Trevor Ghalt fucking hated waiting. "They're either dead or the chips are fried or they will eventually come back online once the solar storm begins to dissipate in the lower atmosphere. Or they're dead." Kleese had stated casually, then fled the room with a squeak after Mellka gave him a look that could melt the surface of Bliss itself.

Seeing those little blinking points progressing across Nova's screen gave them renewed hope, and Ghalt immediately leaped into action. He commanded Nova to attempt to triangulate the coordinates of their signals and try raising them on their comms but both efforts failed. The open channel to communicate with them was nothing but crackling static punctuated occasionally by a strange humming moan that they all recognized as an alien sound that often accompanied Varelsi presence. They'd never heard it come through over comms like that before and both Melka and Ghalt shuddered, the hair on the back of their necks standing on end.

Nova wasn't able to exactly pinpoint the location where the signals were originating from, stating matter-of-factly that there was still considerable interference in the way and if the Captain thought he could do better he was welcome to step out of the airlock and give it a try. She had a general radius determined and that was going to have to be good enough for now, unless the Captain knew some way of clearing up a giant solar storm in an instant. If he did, she was all ears. "Metaphorically speaking of course, as I do not actually have ears."

"Shut up Nova!" Mellka barked, feeling like she had said that a thousand times before, and knowing it wouldn't be the last time. Why the AI had been created with such an attitude problem she would never understand – sometimes it was amusing (when it was directed at someone else and not screwing with an already thoroughly screwed situation) but sometimes it made people want to just blow that bitch up. Like now. But they needed her.

Ghalt was studying the readout image Nova was displaying, showing the area she had narrowed the signal down to and the general direction it seemed to be moving. Next she layered on the topographical features of Ekkunar's surface in that area and an aerial satellite image of the region from an earlier time alongside an image of that same region in real-time. They were already there, in open space high above.

"I'll be damned," he breathed, his eyes widening as he processed what he was seeing. There was a dark and jagged line of a mountain range clinging to the edge of one of the pieces of Ekkunar's mysteriously shattered surface and marking the end of what appeared to be a blank desert, and to the east yawned a chasm of open space that revealed a peek of the molten core of the Eldrid planet. He could see all that in Nova's satellite images because while the rest of Ekkunar's atmosphere was murky and visually impenetrable from a swirling combination of storm and Varelsi, this region's sky was clear and accessible if more narrow than would be considered safe for traveling through. And those two little blips on the radar were heading straight for it.

The old dwarf had been exactly right: Thorn was leading them to the rift in hopes that Nova would be able to get through to them. Boldur's crazy plan could actually _work_! It was a long shot but now they knew what they needed to do, and if there was anything the Battleborn did well it was take action.

"Mel send Boldur up here and raise the crew, all hands on deck, and ALL present Battleborn report to the conference room. Keep them there until I come down. We are gonna save those two if it's the last thing we do."

She bounced up and down in excitement, thrilling to see the determined fire in her friend's eyes. He was so impressive when he talked that way, showing her that he was a real leader above all else, endlessly dedicated to their cause and their team. Mellka had complete faith that Ghalt would see them through this, that he would bring their people home. She doubted a lot of things in this fucked up universe, but she never doubted him.

Impulsively she stretched up and kissed him on the cheek, flashing him an impish grin before dashing from the room to fulfill his request, making air-guitar sounds as she went. He watched her go with a smile, absently touching his face where her lips had pressed against him and allowing himself only a moment to enjoy the sensation before turning back to the business at hand, a plan already forming in his mind.

This wasn't going to be easy, but things worth doing rarely were.


	7. No Going Back

**Author's Note!** **: As with all previous chapters, these characters, places, names, etc. do not belong to me but are the intellectual property of Gearbox/2K! … I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, it's the 'calm before the storm so to speak'! I'm planning on having the next chapter up soon too, by late friday night, so let me know what you think :)**

SEVEN 

~O~

As Thorn and Rath got closer to the mountains the landscape began to change slightly around them. The smooth featureless sands gave way to hardscrabble ground and random craggy rock formations scattered about, the air growing hotter and thinner as the elevation level rose, a vicious wind gusting across the expanse. Looking back they could see the desert sloping down and away into nothingness, a solid line in the distance like a black wave flowing ever closer to them. The Varelsi were sweeping across this region of Ekkunar just as a flooding river might sweep over a bank, they might even be covering the whole of the plant, darkening it like they had darkened so many other stars. And they were relentless, never slowing or stopping. For Thorn and Rath this plan was their one chance to get offworld and escape to safety, and if they failed there was nothing they could do to stop it, or to save themselves from the tide.

The sky had grown dark as well, except in the direction they were traveling the rift emanated a strange golden glow that looked almost like a sunrise just beginning to light the horizon behind the mountains. It was the planet's strangely exposed core that caused this phenomenon, a clever trick of the eye that had been known to confuse many a traveler in Ekkunar's unforgiving outback, causing them to lose their sense of direction and succumb to the harsh environment. They were in no danger of that happening to them, however – they needed that light, it was a beacon that they were going the right way. Instead of avoiding the rift, as she'd always been taught to do, Thorn was taking them straight into the heart of it.

She just hoped they lived to talk about it.

Rath finished up their last bit of water just as they reached the foot of the mountains, Thorn assuring him she'd had enough to get her through and that he needed it more. They both knew she was right – he was beginning to suffer the effects of dehydration and though she was more conditioned for such situations the ranger wasn't far behind him. The busy-work scouting mission they'd been sent out on had meant they wouldn't need much in the way of provisions, and at the time Thorn had been looking forward to watching the spoiled Jennerit squirm and complain from mild hunger and thirst. Now that it was a reality, now that they were already far past the point of simple discomfort, she regretted that petty thought. Thorn would have brought a damn banquet along for them instead of a handful of dried rations if she'd known that meal might be their last.

And watching Rath stoically suffer brought her no joy. All she felt when she looked at him now, walking silently beside her with his head held high, was a swirl of regret and concern. And respect. And if she were being honest with herself, something else entirely unexpected, a feeling that was at once frightening yet electrifying... She could not give word to it. Giving it a word gave it power and there was no way she was going to let that happen. This was an extreme situation, and perhaps she could blame her unbidden feelings on that reason alone. Perhaps she would have started feeling this way about anyone who had come along with her on this doomed little daytrip.

A little voice in the back of her mind, that sounded a lot like Mellka, whispered that she was being a dumbass, lying to herself here in what could be the final hours of her cursed life. Thorn gritted her teeth and shut the voice away, looking up at the mountains that now towered above them. There was no time for feeling anything but determination in this place. What was coming wouldn't be easy, and though they had done harder things that didn't make this challenge any less daunting.

Rath was staring up at the jagged peaks rising above them as well, his wrists resting on the hilts of his sheathed blades on each hip. The look on his face was tense, pensive as he surveyed their dimensions. They rose up sharply with few level plateaus visible from the ground, jutting up into the clear space above them where the clouds of storm parted around them while a glowing golden abyss yawned below. It was a fantastic sight, and an intimidating one.

Thorn answered the unspoken question on his mind, "Yes, we are climbing that."

He said nothing for a moment, running several scenarios through his tactical mind and getting the same result each time – falling to their deaths, in many different colorful ways. Rath was not an accomplished climber, though he considered himself an athlete of the highest caliber and perfectly capable of it. But they were both exhausted, hungry, thirsty, and had no fallback plan. There would be no respawning at a nearby UPR station if they made a mistake, since as far as they knew all UPR services on Ekkunar were currently offline. Everything in his being told him to keep his ass on the ground where it was safe, but he knew that wasn't safe either. They either climbed this mountain of sharp rocky death or they let that advancing wave of fiends crush them up against it. Not great options.

"No way around it?" He finally asked, looking to Thorn hopefully. He'd walk another day around it, on hot fucking coals, if he didn't have to climb this thing.

She shook her head and pointed to the highest peak, only just visible from where they stood several hundred feet below. "No, and even if there was, that would defeat the purpose. We need to be up _there_ , so Nova or a dropship can reach us. There's no other way. They can't penetrate the storm and the mountains block their access to fly through the rift's open sky and land here. They can't land on the mountain either, there isn't enough room and it's too unstable. I've heard the ground here quakes underfoot ever few minutes, the land breaking apart and reforming often. If we want them to be able to get to us, we have to be up there."

"How do you even know they'll know to come here!" It was less a question than Rath throwing up his arms in frustration.

"Because, we still have those trackers Phoebe stabbed into us, do we not? They will at least know where we are, and will have realized by now that there is only one clear section of sky near us. And even failing that, my grandfather would know what I would try. He taught me these things after all."

Rath looked incredulous, lowering his face into his palm, "Boldur? You're talking about _Boldur_? If it's his wisdom we've been following all this time then we are definitely screwed. I'm pretty sure I saw him trying to eat a stick once, and Deande told me that he asked her what _soap_ was."

Familiar rage rose up in Thorn like a cobra, coiling around her chest and making her seethe, her fingers curling into fists even as she tried to tell herself not to overreact. He could elicit such a strong reaction in her with just a few flippant words, making her lose control of her temper so easily, and she hated that. She was struggling to respond without just screaming obscenities at him when something entirely unexpected happened.

The former Jennerit guardian saw the shift in her body language and shook his head, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace before she could say anything, "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to... I just... It's just... Everything is so _fucked_ right now. But if you put your faith in Boldur I trust you, because I am putting my faith in you."

Thorn was stunned. Verod Rath had just _apologized_ to her. He'd stumbled a bit over the words but he had meant it, the sincerity in his face and in his voice evident. She knew the difference between what he was like when he was mocking her, he'd certainly done it enough times. This was not one of those times. And he was putting his faith in her? The cobra that was her rage lowered its head, fangs tucked away again, a warmth spreading through her chest and up into her cheeks. Instead of yelling at him she only nodded curtly, and cleared her throat, "Alright well, we will rest a bit then. Once we start climbing there won't be many places to stop and catch our breath so save your strength." She led by example, finding a rock to settle onto, facing away from him. This way he couldn't see the smile on her lips as she ran his words through her mind over and over.

He took a seat near her, his eyes on the ground but his mind on how beautiful she looked when she'd blushed just then. He wondered how many other men had ever made her flush like that, and he was proud that he had drawn such a reaction out of the fiery Aelfrin. Carefully stretching out the muscles in his legs and arms, Rath stole a glance at her back and felt a stark sense of determination settle in his core. As long as he was climbing with her, alongside her, for her, there was no way he wouldn't make it to the top.

~O~

Ghalt and Nova worked together for hours, with Boldur and Kleese advising, to figure out the best course for accessing the rift in Ekkunar's sky. They'd quickly eliminated the possibility of taking the main ship down there when they'd seen the geographical features below and the actual size of the space they'd have to slip through. It was narrow with wild, unpredictable wind patterns and sharp rock formations reaching high up into the air that could easily puncture a hull and get them all killed. Landing was clearly not an option either, as there was literally nowhere to do so. A hovering rescue with their smallest dropship was dangerous and high risk but it was the only choice they really had.

Next came the question of who was going to man the ship, as it needed a pilot and that small ship could only handle the weight of five passengers in total. If they were successful they'd be picking up two, so that left only the pilot plus two bodies. And as Ghalt expected this sparked an immediate and loud argument between all the Battleborn present when he'd broken the news of the plan to them in the conference room. Crowded about the table, most of them shouted over one another while a scuffle broke out between Whiskey Foxtrot and Oscar Mike, Orendi cackled and hopped around on the table like a maniac, and Ambra floated above it all as if she sat in an invisible throne, also laughing like a madwoman.

Ghalt's temper flared and he slammed his large hands down on the table with enough force that it sounded like a gunshot, silencing them all abruptly and getting their attention. With them all watching he pointed around to each of them, "We've got two of our teammates in dire straights and you're all arguing like a bunch a' damn schoolgirls on the playground! Get your heads in the game!"

They shuffled around sheepishly, giving him their full attention and quieting. Whiskey and Oscar extracted themselves from their grapple on the floor, dusting themselves off and elbowing each other sharply as they stood up. Orendi gave a four-handed mock salute and sat down cross-legged right where she was on top of the table, resting her chin in her top two hands while her other two fidgeted. Ambra stayed right where she was, though she did also fall silent.

"Now," Ghalt started, satisfied with their response, "I need two volunteers to go along, _I'm_ going to pilot the dropship-" Immediately an outburst of protest came from the group but he shut it down with an upraised hand, shutting their mouths. "I know none of you think I should be going myself, but Thorn and Rath are in this situation because I sent them there. I'm taking responsibility for that."

Phoebe spoke up, "But you could not possibly have realized what would transpire on what appeared to be a routine scouting mission. That isn't your responsibility Captain, and is this not a highly dangerous mission? If you were lost you are not so easily replaced. Perhaps one of the Rogues might be a better choice as pilot?" Her lilting and proper voice hid the dagger of insult the LLC heiress was always eager to hurl, even now taking an opportunity to point it at someone.

Reyna crossed her arms and held the spitting-mad Toby back with her boot, which he allowed, and glared at Phoebe with her one good eye . "You callin' my people _disposable_ , you glorified show poodle?" Orendi leapt up and held her little clawed hands out as if to grab at Phoebe, giggling and growling at the same time, "Want me to chew up her soft squishy parts boss?"

Marquis stepped between the diminutive chaos witch and his mistress, commanding her to get back in his tinny robotic voice, and Ghalt slammed his hands on the table again. "ENOUGH! I won't tolerate all this damned infighting! The next person who opens their fucking mouth for any reason but to help this rescue mission is getting thrown out the airlock! I mean it!"

They all fell silent again, though Marquis kept a suspicious eye on Orendi, who continued to stare at Phoebe in an unnervingly hungry way.

After a moment to let his threat sink in Ghalt continued, "My acting as pilot is not up for debate. So let's just figure out who should go with me."

Immediately Mellka stepped forward, and Ghalt smiled despite himself. He'd known she would offer herself, and he wasn't disappointed. "It's gonna be dangerous Mel, you don't have to do this."

"Yeah, I really do," was all she said, and he knew there would be no arguing with her. If anything he was relieved though. He knew he could count on Mellka like no other and she had a personal interest in seeing her friend returned safely. Boldur had wanted to go, had insisted on it, but after much begging and persuading Mellka had managed to talk him out of it. With Ekkunar's people scattered refugees and their planet itself slowly disappearing before their eyes, they would need the old dwarf's guidance, wisdom, knowledge, and leadership more than ever. They could not risk losing him in this. Mellka had sworn she could do everything in her power to bring Thorn home and he'd accepted her word, albeit grudgingly.

Ghalt nodded firmly and scanned the faces of the rest of the Battleborn who were on board. "We just need one more then. Who's gonna volunteer?" There were those present who he knew would never offer themselves up at such risk. But he trusted his Battleborn and knew that at that their core they would want to take care of their own. They never disappointed him when all was said and done, he knew they wouldn't now.

A minutes or two passed, a few whispers between some of them as they debated, most of them thinking it over. He waited patiently, trying not to push them but mindful of that fact that they were on a tight timeline here.

Finally, just when he was about to have to speak up anyway, one of them stepped forward. Ghalt couldn't hide the surprise on his face.

"I-I...Uhm... I'll go?" The slim young woman raised her hand, her shy uncertainty obvious in her stammering. She'd been picked up only a few months ago, during a brief stopover on a mostly deserted fringe planet covered almost entirely in water of some form or another. This strange girl had approached their team, full of weirdo questions and offering to help guide them, but it quickly become clear that she was living alone there and had been for quite some time. Her skills were exceptional and useful, and she so wanted to help once she heard what the Battleborn were doing. She'd begged to be allowed to join and Ghalt had seen her potential immediately, even if her social skills were... lacking.

She was strikingly beautiful with her long bluish hair, pale blue skin, large luminous eyes and feminine form, a far-removed cousin of Eldrid origins. Even the odd tattoo-like markings on her body and the double gills on her sides and behind her ears were exotic and fascinating. Her aptitude for combat and moderate skills as a healer made her an excellent addition to any team, and she was even training with Miko in between mission to improve her natural talent. She was sweet and desperate to belong, but no one had expected her to put her life on the line for people she barely knew. It spoke volumes of her character and Ghalt was pleased.

He smiled at her, "Alani, are you sure?"

She nodded, fussing with her long braid of hair pulled forward over her shoulder, looking nervous as all eyes in the room were on her. "Yep!" She was trying to sound brave and decisive but her tone and body language gave her away, "I'm totally ready!"

"Why do ya think you'd be right for this? You don't even know Thorn or Rath," Reyna still had her arms crossed, which made her a very imposing figure, and her serious question made Alani tremble. Ghalt let it go on - he was curious what reason she might give.

"C-cause I just want to-to help them, we're a team! And maybe they'll be... hurt? Or, uhm, thirsty? I can help with that too."

Reyna laughed, "Okay, you got spirit kid! Good with you Ghalt?"

He gestured for the quivering young monk to come with him, obvious relief washing over her entire body and face as he did. She bounded over, practically bouncing around in excitement, "Maybe we can have a party when we all get back! I think you guys forgot to invite me to the last one. Is that what happened?"

Ghalt sighed internally while Mellka groaned out loud beside him as they headed down to the deck. The kid's heart was in the right place but damn this was going to be a long drive.


	8. Giving In

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys! I hope you all had great weekends - mine was busy but I finally got this done! I haven't had any time to edit it, so please forgive any mistakes there might be until I get a chance to do that. I didn't want to wait to post it though :) Enjoy! Please feel free to R &R**

EIGHT 

~O~

The first quake hit before they'd even started their climb, the ground shaking and pitching underneath their feet like something gargantuan was trying to climb up from below while rocks and debris rained down from the slope above them. Rath kept his footing but Thorn, still weakened from her close call with the sand trap, was caught off guard when a chunk of igneous rock grazed her shoulder. As she staggered backward her bare heel struck a low-lying rock behind her and she felt herself falling before she could recover, bracing for the impact of hitting the ground. But that hit never came.

Rath saw her trip and he did not hesitate to lunge forward with arms outstretched, catching her light frame and pulling her in close against him at the last second, shielding her from the hail of stone. One large shard struck him firmly in the back but he barely grunted, keeping his upper body bent over her until the quake had ceased. And though it was a completely foreign feeling for her, something she had never done before and never thought she would, Thorn curled against his broad chest and shut her eyes tight for a moment, allowing him to protect her.

Silence and stillness returned, and slowly Thorn opened her eyes and loosened her grip where she had clung to Rath's shoulder, one arm wrapped around his neck. When had she even done that? It must have been a reflex when he caught her, to steady herself, but now it felt so reassuring that she hesitated to withdraw it. He straightened as the hail ended, towering over her body cradled close against him – he held her so easily, as if she weighed nothing, his strong arms surprisingly warm around her back and behind her knees. There was a palpable tension in the air between them as she hazarded a glance up at his face and he was already looking down at her, his mouth a grim line and those red eyes sparking with some unspoken thought.

The moment seemed to go on for what felt like an eternity. The blademaster was highly aware of Thorn's fingertips barely brushing the back of his neck, even through the thin layer of body armor covering his skin it felt like electricity coursing through him. But he kept his face straight, determined not to show it. It took him a moment to find his voice, looking down at her upturned face and filled with a dangerous impulse, a thousand inappropriate thoughts crossing his mind.

He cleared his throat, which seemed to snap her out of her own thoughts as well, "Are you..."

She nodded quickly, a short motion as she awkwardly moved to put her legs down and pointedly broke their eye contact, "Fine, yes I'm fine. Thank you...again." It was time to climb and she couldn't afford to be distracted on the way up. And besides that, this was _Verod Rath_ for Kreshek's sake, if she was thinking of him this way she definitely must have a head injury.

He set her down gently then crossed his arms while she busily brushed herself off, trying not to look at him. "This me-saving-you thing is becoming a trend." The comment was loaded with his trademark acerbic humor, but she sensed something slightly softer in his tone below that. She chose to ignore it, replying only with an exasperated scoff.

"Save your breath for the climb Jennerit, the time has come. Are you ready?" Thorn slung Kreshek across her back and looked up, trained eyes seeking out the path of least resistance up the jagged and steep mountainside. From the looks of things even the easiest way was going to be extremely challenging.

Rath took a moment to check the ties holding his sheaths in place, ensuring they wouldn't impede him too much in his climb but that his precious swords would be secured. His blades were everything to him and if they were lost he wasn't sure what he would do. Once he was satisfied that they were well attached to him he stepped up beside Thorn and looked up at the cliff, feeling his stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Am I ready? No. Let's do this."

Thorn smiled at that despite herself, and nodded to him, reaching up to get her first handhold on the unforgiving porous rock.

"Then follow me – and don't look down."

~O~

The climb was slow-going and arduous, even moreso than either of them had anticipated. Thorn's muscles burned and her hands were aching from the strain of maintaining her grip, the sharp stone surface cutting into her calloused palms so tiny rivulets of blood were running down her forearms by the time they reached the halfway point. A million times she wondered how Rath was faring, surprised and glad that when she managed a quick glance below her he was not far behind her, keeping up as if he'd been climbing all his life. She worried that fatigue might set in and make it harder for him, his heavier frame dragging him down, but so far he seemed focused and tireless. She was glad for that. It was difficult enough keeping herself balanced without worrying about him.

A second quake hit not long after they cleared the halfway point, forcing them to cling close to the rock wall and hope the falling rocks would miss them. It felt like the entire mountain was shaking apart around them – for a moment Thorn thought this might be the end and they would never make it to the top. When it stopped she climbed with renewed purpose and a fresh sense of urgency, knowing that there was a greater risk of falling with every seismic event that rolled over them. She could see the deep blue-black expanse of open space peeking through the break in the clouds like a beacon, if they could just get up there.

She had to believe that Nova, that their friends and teammates, would come for them. There was zero room for doubt here at the edge of a molten void, at the end of the world.

A small plateau gave them a very brief moment to catch their breath, but Thorn quickly spurred them back into action, feeling the pressure of the clock ticking down. From this high vantage point she could see that the land back the way they'd come was swept up in pulsating shadow as Varelsi forces moved across it toward the rift. She couldn't know their intention, or guess how their fiendish alien minds worked, but she did sense that they were coming for something and she and Rath didn't want to be in their way when they got to it.

The higher they climbed the more difficult it was to draw a full breath as the air was thin and hot, vicious blistering winds rolling out of the rift itself and buffeting the mountainside, threatening to knock them off. Thorn had been in numerous extreme survival situations before but none had ever felt quite so perilous as this. She knew they were walking a fine line between life and death, gambling on the reliability of their comrades and their own ability to get through to them. It was ridiculous really, and they probably should have let that sand pit drown them. But they were warriors, they were Battleborn – giving up was not in their nature. Succeed or die trying.

She was nearing the top, panting and gasping, hearing Rath still just a few feet behind her. This high up it was almost as if Thorn could reach out and touch the stars, if there had been any left out in the velvet dark of open space. Frantically she searched the sliver of sky overhead for some sign that their friends were coming, or already there and waiting, but she saw nothing yet and was forced to turn her attention back to the placement of her hands and feet. If she fell to her death now it would be beyond stupid.

Finally she reached the ledge at the highest peak and relief washed through Thorn, pulling her exhausted body up over the side and laying there for a moment. When Rath's hands appeared at the edge moments later she instinctively reached out, grabbing his wrists and helping to pull him up. He was so heavy and she was so spent, it was everything she had to assist him but the look of gratitude he gave her was worth it. Drained and in pain, the both of them laid side by side on the small ledge and stared up at the split in the sky, looking out into the emptiness with resignation.

They said nothing – they had done all they could. Their friends would come or they wouldn't, and waiting was all they had left. They would wait together.

She felt a faint touch on her arm and shifted her hand slightly, finding Rath's fingertips just barely brushing the outside of her wrist. Instead of moving it away she inched it closer so his fingers rested across the pulsepoint there, taking comfort in the light contact connecting them in the moment.

Rath could feel her heartbeat fluttering underneath his touch, matching the racing pace of his own hammering behind his ribs. It was probably the climb making their pulses speed like that but he took a certain measure of pleasure in imagining other possible causes. It was a better thought to dwell on than the fact that Nova wasn't here, there was not going to be a rescue. They had dragged their asses all the way up to the top of this mountain, where the air was barely breathable, just so they could die. Typical.

What he really wanted to do was roll over and make their last hour memorable, make it something worth dying for. But a humming drone had started up around them, almost too low to hear, like a buzzing in the ears, and his heartbeat sped up again. Thorn tensed beside him and Rath knew she heard it too, just as they both saw out in the dark sky a telltale glint of light. They sat up almost in unison and looked at each other with wide eyes before looking up again to confirm – the light was getting brighter, closer, coming toward them. It was almost too much to hope for but there it was, their team was coming.

And the Varelsi were coming too.

They leaped to their feet and braced themselves against the hot winds, weapons out and trying to determine where they would be coming from. Keeping the fiends clear long enough for Nova to land would have to be their top priority.

That thought immediately skidded to a halt in Thorn's mind as she truly took in the small broken platform they stood on, processing the full scope of their situation. She'd already known there wasn't much of a chance that the ship would be able to land here, but this was too small and unstable for even a dropship to land. That meant the rescue ship would have to hover with the ramp lowered, which was dangerous enough in calm conditions – considering the high winds and volatile atmosphere, they wouldn't be able to hold position for long. And she wasn't sure that either her or Rath were physically up to making much of a jump. Then there were the Varelsi sticking their ugly faces into the mix.

As if on cue, three void blooms opened around the perimeter of the platform, and another large one opened in the air above them, the smaller portals immediately spilling out a crowd of skulks. Rath looked over at her for only a second before giving a fierce battlecry and wading into the fray, his blades spinning and flashing in a beautiful dance of death. She would have liked to simply sit back and watch the beauty and power of his skill at work, the Varelsi falling before his artful attacks, but she knew she needed to help him hold them back.

Thorn drew back a volley and let it go, felling two skulks to Rath's left flank, then cast a blight on the ground around him so that any alien scum coming near him would suffer nature's curse. This quickly thinned out their ranks but she could only maintain the effect for a short time before her energy wavered and it faded away while more Varelsi poured through. She fired a few more arrows to keep his back clear before turning to check on their rescuers progress – her heart skipped a beat when she saw that the small ship was on approach, only a few minutes away and descending. If they could just hold out a little longer they might have a chance of getting out of this...

Rath fell back to her side, cutting down each skulk as it came near them while Thorn continued to pick off the ones just emerging from their portals, but she could feel herself tiring and knew he must be as well. Overheard the larger void bloom was expanding, already larger than the platform itself and Thorn felt a jolt of panic that the dropship wouldn't be able to get close enough if they waited any longer.

The ship was hovering out past the edge and trying to avoid the large Varelsi portal. It was too far for a feasible jump, but they were already lowering the cargo ramp - perhaps whoever was piloting planned on trying to press closer just long enough for them to get a shot at jumping on board before the Varelsi and wind conditions drove them further away. Either way, Thorn knew they were only going to get one chance at it. It was now or never.

She grabbed for his shoulder and pulled him back toward the edge where the ship was waiting, "Come on Rath!" His name from her mouth got his attention and he reluctantly turned away, both of them moving to the only logical place to jump from out on the precipice. It was still much too far, the ship would _have_ to get closer if they were both going to be able to make it. Thorn could make the jump from that distance if she really gave it all she had but there was no way Rath could, and much to her own surprise she realized she wasn't going to go without him.

The few skulks remaining pressed toward them and Thorn cut them down with a quick volley, of cursed arrows. This bought them a few minutes as best, as more would soon be pouring through and who knew what was going to come down through that larger portal at any second.

Rath and Thorn turned to look at the ship, their supposed salvation, hovering over twenty feet away, barely holding steady, and two of their fellow Battleborn standing inside. It was Mellka and the new kid, Thorn was pretty sure her name was Alani but she'd only spoken to her once before. And the look on Mellka's face made Thorn's heart sink – the hopelessness of what they were all seeing was written all over it. She watched as her friend slowly shook her head and held up her hands, gesturing to the Varelsi void keeping them from getting any closer.

Standing there with the wind howling around them, the ground trembling beneath them, and the sky falling on them, Thorn looked her Eldrid friend in the eye across the distance and slowly shook her head. She knew what she had to do, and felt a strange sense of calm settle over her as she gave Mellka a sad smile and turned toward Rath.

Mellka, realizing her intent, screamed a protest that was swept away by the wind, absorbed by the void. Thorn ignored it, letting everything fall away except for Rath. There was only one way to make sure he made it out of this alive, and that their friends all made it back safely to Nova so they could carry on the Battleborn cause. And only she could ensure that.

She slung Kreshek on her back to free her hands and took the Jennerit swordsman by the hand, standing between him and the Varelsi portals, looking up into his face.. He had sheathed his swords temporarily in anticipation of making the jump, but like her he had quickly realized that it was simply too far, that he wouldn't be able to make it. Standing with his back to the ship and facing her, there was a resignation in his features that she'd never seen before. Before she had a chance to say what was on her mind he was grabbing her by the arms and leaning down close to her, his voice urgent.

"Thorn go now, you can make that jump! Just go! _GO!"_

She shook her head, stepping closer to him so they were standing chest to chest, slowly reaching up to brush her hand alongside his jaw and cup the back of his neck. He fell silent and froze but didn't try to stop her. What she was about to do was necessary, she told herself, to do what must be done. To return a debt, to save him. If she didn't get close to him first and take him by surprise he would never agree to what she had in mind, and it wasn't up for debate. This is what she had to do.

Every cell in Thorn's body was alight as she drew him down to her, feeling her heart racing with the fuel of a thousand different emotions. And when she pressed her mouth to his it was like a burst of pure sunlight in her veins, everything going hazy around them as for those few seconds everything else ceased to matter. She was unprepared for the intensity of his immediate response to her, his groaning softly against her lips as he wrapped his arms tightly around her and picked her up, his mouth devouring hers passionately as if he'd been starving for her. She wrapped around him and let him crush her against him, savoring the bright pleasure and delicious pain of it all, knowing it would be the last real thing she would really feel in this world. And she was glad it was him, after all.

Finally she broke their kiss, leaving both of them gasping and a dazed look on Rath's face as he let her back down. There was no time to think or to reconsider, and there was only one thing left to say, as everything else she'd just expressed to him without a single word.

She smiled up at him, running her hands down his jaw, the sides of his neck, and coming to rest on his chest. Leaning up Thorn whispered softly in his ear, "Now we're even, Jennerit."

Before he could register her meaning or try to stop her, Thorn summoned every last ounce of Eldrid magic left in her exhausted body and poured it into her palm, striking him sharply in the center of his chest and launching him away from her even as the force of the blow propelled her backwards in the opposite direction. As if in slow motion she watched the horror of realization dawn on Rath as he flew backwards across the open space and hit the ramp, then Mellka's reflexive reaction as she grabbed him so he wouldn't fall off in his state of shock.

" _THORN! NO!"_ He screamed her name, fighting with Mellka and Alani who tried to subdue him even as he tried to get free, though he had no way back across. " _DON'T DO THIS!_ "

And Thorn felt herself tumbling back across the rocky ground, sliding and skidding out of control, too depleted to stop herself from her chosen fate as a yawning Varelsi portal loomed over her. Of course her cursed life would end this way, sacrificing herself for a Jennerit she'd somehow fallen for, then disappearing into the mysterious oblivion of the void. A fitting death as any for an Aelfrin orphan.

As the portal closed over her she caught one final glimpse of Rath, who was raging and staring after her, still calling her name. She tried to give him one last smile but she was so tired, she wasn't sure her mouth moved. And that kiss was the last thing on her mind before her eyes closed and the void swallowed her whole.


	9. Survivor's Grief

**Author's Note : I'm back! So sorry for the long delay between this chapter and the last - I've been recovering from an accident but I'm better now and getting back into a writing routine, getting back to normal. I hope you guys like this one, it felt good to write again and I'm looking forward to the next one too! Feel free to let me know what you think - I heart you guys!**

NINE 

~O~

When she'd kissed him it was like fire, all the things he had been denying surfacing at once and enveloping him the same way she wrapped her limbs around him. Rath had wanted that moment to go on forever, damn the rest of the world, but had he known what she was planning he would have pushed her back, refused to let her get close enough to do it. He would give up that kiss and a million more if it meant he could take that moment back and stop her from saving his life at the expense of her own.

That stupid selfless Eldrid bitch! How had he not realized sooner what she had in mind! She'd bewitched him, using her body and her touch against him until all he could see and think and feel in that moment was _her_ , so she could get close enough to execute her plan. He would not accept this, and neither Mellka nor that water monk were enough to stop him from trying to get back across to her. But as he sailed away from her he watched her do the same, in the other direction, horror blooming in his heart when he saw that her burst propulsion had sent him to safety and her straight into the gaping maw of a Varelsi portal. And just before she'd disappeared from sight he could have sworn she _smiled_ at him, but all he could do was scream for her in helplessness.

Then, just like that, Thorn was gone. No trace of her remained on the platform and there were hands pulling him back away from the closing cargo ramp, voices in his ears asking him what had happened and shouting that they had to go, it was what Thorn had wanted them to do. That if they stayed any longer they were all going to die.

Rath didn't care, it was all noise to him. He felt himself go slack, replaying the moment her lips had touched his immediately followed by the image of her disappearing through that portal over and over on loop in his mind. A tremendous weight settled inside of him, a wave of nausea and grief bringing him to his knees. This couldn't really be happening. He had failed her, had failed himself and his ultimate duty to protect, and that it was a woman like her to break him so... Eldrid, fierce beauty filled with fire and life, and she was gone, beyond his reach no matter how he may rage against it.

Filled with a fury and a pain unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, he didn't know what to do with himself. The weight inside him made it seem impossible that he could ever be on his feet again, his throat raw from screaming for her, his eyes burning with tears he had not noticed he was shedding, dizzy and sick with the reality of what he had just found then instantly lost in one fell swoop.

A gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder and he did not even look up, he would not be consoled. But he did not resist when a wave of cooling energy washed over him, into him, soothing the anguished warrior and granting him sweet relief from the waking world.

~O~

Alani had felt genuinely afraid for her life when the raging Jennerit swordsman had been knocked aboard their struggling little ship and then immediately started fighting them to get back. On Mellka's order they had tried to hold him down and stop him but they were no match for his adrenaline-fueled strength. Yet despite his refusal to give up there was no way back, no way to save Thorn, and Rath's rage had gotten him nowhere but drained and kneeling on the cold floor of the cargo bay.

The young monk had not hesitated, nor asked Mellka for permission, before laying hands on the Blademaster. She knew grief when she saw it, recognized that it was tearing him apart and that he was suffering both emotionally and physically from the ordeal that culminated in the loss of the woman who had been his partner through it all. Such a fresh wound to the soul must be closed if he was to survive it. It was a simple enough thing for Alani to call upon the blessing of the Bluemother and heal his body, ease his mind into unconsciousness, refreshing his spirit. The pain of loss could not be cured, but if he could rest and heal his physical form then eventually the soul would follow. That was the nature of life.

Mellka slid down the wall to sit down hard as well when Rath collapsed. There were tears in her eyes and her fingers buried in her wild hair, cradling her head in disbelief. "What... What the fuck just happened..."

She'd given Ghalt the order to go after Rath was on board, because she was a veteran and she knew that trying to get to Thorn was only going to get them all killed. And in a matter of seconds Thorn was gone, vanishing before their eyes into a Varelsi portal after she'd launched Rath straight into their waiting arms. Mellka knew why her friend had done it – she had seen the look of determination take over Thorn's face as she'd made her decision. There was no way to save them both in the limited window of time they had. If she jumped without Rath he was unlikely to be able to clear that distance in his weakened state and would be left behind or worse, would have fallen to his death. Both of them dying there would have been foolish and needless, so Thorn had done the only thing she thought was left, using the last of her power to get Rath out of there, knowing that it would fling her back into the void. What Thorn probably had not counted on was falling into the Varelsi portal open behind her.

Watching her Eldrid friend be swallowed up by one of those demon pits to another dimension or wherever the hell they were from was like a waking nightmare, and she'd screamed for Thorn right alongside Rath. But there was no stopping it. All they could do was honor her final act and be sure they got the hell out of there, so she didn't sacrifice herself in vain. With her heart breaking, Mellka had shouted over the comm for Ghalt to take them out, and he had done just that.

Alani watched her cry silently, feeling the prick of tears in her own eyes. Empathy sucked. "I'm sorry about your friend." It was all she could think to say.

"Oh shut up! You didn't even know Thorn!" Mellka snapped, wiping angrily at her eyes and getting up. "So just shut the fuck up!"

The monk swallowed a sob and looked away sheepishly, having no response to that, instead busying her hands by moving Rath's unconscious body into a more comfortable position. She kept her eyes down even as Mellka stormed past her and left her alone with him, muttering under her breath.

~O~

Boldur had not taken the news of Thorn's demise well, and Miko had had no choice but to sedate him. Down in Nova's medbay the Mikolloprian healer watched over his now-sleeping fellow Eldrid, as well as monitoring the vitals of Verod Rath while he continued to recover. He'd remained unconscious throughout the four hour flight back to the main ship and was still out now, two hours after they'd returned, the result of the prolonged exhaustion and trauma he'd endured. Whatever magic Alani had poured into him to calm the Jennerit had worked extremely well – the young monk was really coming along as a healer and Miko felt proud to be training her to hone that aspect of her abilities.

The young Eldrid healer had stayed in the medbay with Miko after helping to bring Rath in but she hadn't said anything. Instead she sat in the corner in silence, her eyes closed and the occasional tear slipping out from underneath her eyelids into her upturned palms where they rested in her lap. Miko did not disturb her or attempt to console her – she would need to work through her pain on her own, she would need to learn how to cope with loss just as they all had. It was a difficult thing but it was a part of the life they had all chosen for themselves. Heroes rarely lived long lives.

A change in Rath's breathing pattern caught Miko's attention and they moved on soft feet to check his pulse. It was steady but increasing in pace, a sign that the man was likely waking up. Ghalt had asked to be informed when he awoke so Miko tapped into their comm to call the Captain and let him know that time had come.

"I'll be right there," Ghalt immediately answered. Miko accepted that silently and took a meditative position near their charges to wait patiently.

Not even a full minute later Rath opened his eyes and sat bolt upright with a gasp, looking around wildly as it took him a moment to realize where he was. When the reality of his surroundings and the truth of his situation set in the man dropped his head into his hands and began hyperventilating, muttering Thorn's name along with several other things that were mostly inaudible.

Miko came over and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, speaking to him in a low and soft rasp, "Breathe, Verod. In... and out. In... and out. You have been through much my friend."

But Rath was inconsolable and knocked Miko's hand away, getting to his feet and heading for the door, seemingly mindless of the fact that he wore nothing but his underclothes. Alani jumped up and looked from Rath to her mentor with a flash of panic in her large eyes, looking for guidance on whether or not she should intervene. With a calm that could only come from deep wisdom, Miko held their hand up to stay Alani, letting Rath go. They knew that the only way to stop the Jennerit blademaster in his current mental state would be to fight him and that was the last thing he needed right now. It was best to let a grieving man be.

When he was gone, sweeping out into the hallway with a stormy look on his pallid face, the door slid closed behind him and Alani slumped into the nearest chair.

"Master Miko, shouldn't he be resting right now? Shouldn't we have stopped him? And what is he going to do? He looked so... mad." The truth was she was scared of Verod Rath, and relieved that he was gone, but she wasn't about to admit that, not even to her mentor.

The mushroom-capped Eldrid healer took a seat near Alani and gave a small laugh, "So many questions young one, all with answers you already know." Miko's strange rasping voice took some getting used to, but once you got to know them it was also a comfort.

She sighed. "You're right. I just... I feel like I should have done something more. Before, in the dropship, when Thorn disappeared into that portal, it was so awful. I know we couldn't save them both but I could have done more, I think. I should have done more."

"And what is this 'more' you speak of?"

Alani fidgeted with her hands in her lap, looking down for a long moment while Miko waited in motionless silence. Finally she just shrugged and leaned back with a huff, "Nothing! I was useless out there really, it was all happening so fast and the ship was barely holding its position, the Captain was shouting over the comm that he couldn't keep control much longer and couldn't leave the controls to help. Maybe if we'd had more of us there-"

"But is it not true that the dropship could not support the weight of more passengers? And only the dropship was small enough to slip through the narrow opening in the atmosphere to get to them?"

"Yeah..."

"Then we think that you are taking on guilt needlessly. You volunteered, you tried to save them, you _did_ save Verod Rath even if in his pain he can't see it right now. Teshka Elessamorn would say the same, trust us."

She couldn't argue – Miko was right on all counts. But every time she closed her eyes she saw Thorn sailing away from them, heard Rath screaming her name... There was something in his eyes, in his voice, that went beyond the simple loss of a partner and comrade, even beyond the loss of a friend. Alani had felt his trembling when she'd touched him. That kind of pain came from deep within. It came from love but she doubted even he had realized that yet.

"It just makes my heart hurt," she whispered, and Miko said nothing this time, merely nodded sagely and reached out to gently pat the young monk's hand.

~O~

Ghalt could hear raised voices and the clear sounds of a scuffle down the hallway before he even turned the corner and saw anything. Montana's bellowing voice was easy to hear over all the others, "C'mon buddy just calm down, we'll get a beer and have a nice talk. I know it's tough but-"

"Shut up and get out of my way you big dumb ox or I will climb up there and strangle you til your eyes pop out of your tiny head! Let me pass! And where is Ghalt!" Rath's sharp voice cut Montana off and rang loudly down the corridor just as the scene came into Ghalt's full view, as if on a cue. The Jennerit swordsman stood toe to toe with the towering lumberjack, who was blocking the hallway and holding his hands up in an attempt to diffuse his friend's temper. And it was obvious that Rath was living up to his name – he practically shook with rage, his fists balled at his sides and his sunken tired eyes ablaze as he stared defiantly up at Montana. It was then that Rath's furious gaze slid past Montana's shoulder to land squarely on Ghalt standing behind them. He immediately lunged toward him and the big guy was too slow to stop the more agile man.

"YOU!" Rath was slamming him against the wall before Ghalt had fully registered what was happening, but he kept his composure and held his hands up, letting the Jennerit vent however he needed while making it clear he didn't intend to fight back. Montana looked unsure of what to do and Ghalt gave him a steadying look with a small shake of his head, silently asking him not to step in. The Captain knew that Rath was in pain and needed to get it out, this was going to happen eventually and it might as well be now.

Rath's long fingers were gripping the lapels of Ghalt's coat tightly as he pressed him against the corridor wall, getting in his face and barely keeping his voice below a scream.

"What the hell happened out there _CAPTAIN?! That_ plan was the best you could manage?! And now Thorn is _gone_ and where were you?! What the _fuck_ did you do?!"

"I know it's hard my friend-"

" _Shut your mouth Ghalt._ I am NOT your friend, and you have _failed_ Thorn, just like I failed her. You don't deserve to call yourself _captain_ anymore when _that's_ the best you can do for your people! What good are you?!" He seethed, feeling himself on the verge of losing control, but physically attacking Trevor Ghalt wasn't going to bring her back. And knowing that Montana would be quick to jump in was certainly a deterrent. He didn't want to end up in a fistfight with the hulking gunner, especially since he still felt so weak and tired.

Montana started to say something but Ghalt held up a hand, silencing him. The truth was he felt like Rath was right. He had failed, though ultimately there hadn't been many choices left to him. He wasn't given many options but a good captain should have been able to find a way, that there must have been _something_ he could have done differently to bring them both home.

Rath was still in his face, still gripping him, the strong muscles in his bare arms standing out, the inky black Jennerit tattoos on his forearms stark against the pale skin. "Nothing to say for yourself?!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

Both men turned to see Mellka standing a few feet away, neither had noticed her approach but now she was commanding their attention. The Eldrid mercenary's eyes burned bright green, unfallen tears glimmering at their edges as she stared the two of them down, her aura pulsing with a rage to match Rath's own.

"Get your fucking hands off him Rath or I will kill you." The cold, calm menace in her tone was enough to convince him that she was beyond casual anger, and that she meant it. He slowly released Ghalt but didn't move away from him. Then he opened his mouth to throw a verbal dagger at her but she didn't give him the chance.

"How can you do this Rath? Do you really think this is what Thorn would want? This is how you honor her memory? By attacking the man who tried his best to save you both? To save _her_? Trevor insisted on piloting the ONLY ship that was small enough to get us through to you, risking himself even though everyone told him he was too valuable to our cause, and it took everything he had to maintain control of the ship long enough to get you out. He couldn't just step away from the controls to help and even if he had, how much of a difference do you really think it would have made? There was only so much we could do, after so much planning we knew the odds were still slim that we could get to you at all and we did our best. GHALT did his best, so don't you dare fucking blame him for this!"

She moved to stand between the two men, forcing Rath to take a step back even as he still reeled from her tirade, trying to form a retort but finding himself speechless. But Mellka was not finished, facing him now and fury making her tremble even as Ghalt gently took her arm and tried to pull her back away from her fellow battleborn.

"And do you think you're the ONLY one who lost her?" Her voice was slowly rising in pitch and beginning to crack with emotion, growing louder while her tears threatened to spill over. "You think you're the only one hurting over this?! You think you're the only one missing her?! That none of us are grieving?! _We ALL lost her!_ "

Mellka looked like she was going to hit Rath, and Ghalt tensed himself in preparation to intervene so that they didn't kill each other if a fight broke out. But what little color remained in the Blademaster's face had drained away, his fists uncurling and going limp. The light of rage in his eyes had gone out. He didn't look like a man ready to fight – Verod Rath looked like a man defeated.

He took a step back, turning to walk away without another word. Montana pressed himself back to give the man a wide berth but didn't try to stop him, Mellka and Ghalt saying nothing nor making any move either. Rath made it just a few steps before he stopped, and he didn't even look back as he spoke in a voice devoid of any feeling, quiet and monotone, "Ghalt, I quit."


	10. Departures

**AUTHOR'S NOTE : A shortie chapter this time around, but I've already got the next one in editing since I wrote them together, and I should have it up before the weekend too! Thanks for reading, and a special thanks to all my reviewers! I try to respond to all the PMs and reviews I get but if I missed anyone or you left an anonymous or Guest review, thank you SO much! I love all the great feedback and it means a lot to me! I hope you guys all enjoy :) **

TEN 

~O~

After his resignation Ghalt had asked him what he wanted to do, where he intended to go. It was surprising, because Rath had been sure the Battleborn commander would try to change his mind and convince him to stay, but he hadn't. Instead he'd agreed without argument to take Rath to Tempest, where he could take up his old position as an elite guard for the recently returned Empress Lenore as she tried to rebuild the Jennerit Imperium.

In truth Rath didn't really want to go back to that life, but everywhere he looked on board Nova were reminders of Thorn, and they all wanted to talk to him about her, about her last days. It had reached a point where Rath was going to run a sword through the next person who gave him yet another sympathetic look, a comforting pat, or tried to tell him it was going to be alright, that Thorn had lived a good life and died a hero. He couldn't stand the drunken toasts to her memory, the story-swapping between her friends about the things she'd done on the battlefield and off, and the idea of moving forward with missions as if nothing had happened sickened him. He had to get away from it, and just lose himself in work that had nothing to do with the Battleborn, surrounded by people who never knew Thorn and wouldn't give a damn about some Eldrid heroine who had died for him. His fellow Jennerits wouldn't ask and wouldn't care, and just maybe that way he could forget. Just forget it all.

The journey to Tempest had taken four days and Rath had stayed isolated in his bunk for as much of it as he possibly could. He hadn't even come out for Thorn's memorial service. The condolences and questions made him want to rage and cut things in half, he was done with it and ready to get away. Visitors occasionally came to his door but he didn't answer for most, ignoring the food they left outside for him. He'd allowed only a few visitors inside: Deande, who had come with a bottle of strong dark Jennerit wine and no empty sympathies to offer, content to simply sip with him in companionable silence; And Boldur, who he felt he'd at least owed the respect of hearing his personal account of what happened since the Ekkuni dwarf was like Thorn's family. That had been an uncomfortable conversation, with Rath deliberately leaving out some details of the pair's forced retreat together across Ekkunar and Boldur growing very emotional. Rath was relieved when that was over, and would be even more relieved when he never had to see Thorn's grandfather again – if anyone reminded him especially of her it was that gruff, brave, and loyal dwarf.

It was the last day, he wouldn't have to wait much longer and he hadn't expected anyone else to try to talk to him before he left. He'd even turned away Montana, who was everyone's friend and just wanted to try to make amends. They didn't want him to walk away from the Battleborn but Rath could see no other way to move forward with his life. Besides, he had failed in his duties so utterly, Thorn had been lost not because of Ghalt but because of _him_ , because Rath hadn't determined her intentions sooner, hadn't been strong enough to ensure they both got out of there. Or that at least she had gotten out of there instead of him. How could he stay and fight alongside the rest of them when he had let them all down and very well may do so again? No, he didn't deserve to call himself one of them anymore. Self-imposed exile was what he deserved.

Just a few hours to go.

A faint knock sounded at his bunk's door, surprising Rath. He'd figured no one else was going to try to talk him out of it at this point, that all those who had any feelings on the matter had already attempted to express them. Perhaps it was Deande coming to have one last drink with him and give him a proper goodbye, though he didn't need that. Her first gesture was more than enough and Rath was feeling on edge today, he didn't trust himself not to blow up or break down at the drop of a pin and he just wanted to get to Tempest and be done with it.

"What?" He called out halfheartedly without even getting up, impatience sounding in his tone. A small voice muttered something from the other side of the door, and Rath neither recognized it or could tell what they were saying.

He rolled his eyes and snapped, "Just open the door!"

After a pause the metal door slid open with a whoosh, a slender young woman standing on the other side with her pale blue hands clasped nervously in front of her, eyes downcast and her long dark hair pulled forward over one shoulder to hide her face. He knew who she was, the same Eldrid water monk who had joined Mellka in the rescue attempt on Ekkunar, and he was pretty sure she was also the one who had magically sedated him immediately afterward.

"What do you want Amali?"

She visibly flinched, and he watched her out of the corner of his eye from where he was stretched out on his cot with his arms underneath his bare head.

"A-actually sir, it's Alani..." she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, still looking down as she twisted her fingers around one another.

"I _really_ don't care," Rath continued to stare up at the low ceiling above him, though he remained aware of her with his peripheral vision. She looked up at him then but quickly back down again, an obvious embarrassed blush on her cheeks, her small fists moving to ball up at her sides. A long moment of silence followed and Rath felt his patience wearing thin as she apparently tried to work up the nerve to say something to him.

With an exaggerated sigh he swung his long legs over the side of his cot and sat up to face her, a frown on his face. "Since when are the Battleborn taking on teenagers as recruits?"

That comment brought her head up, bright blue eyes flashing with defiance as she put her hands on her hips and glared at him, "Hey! I'm a lot older than I look ya know."

"Yeah? You and me both."

Her expression turned from one of indignity to one of puzzlement, and he could see her opening her mouth to ask him what exactly he meant by that before she could get the first word out. Explaining Sustainment to this girl was not on his short list of interesting activities, so Rath cut her off quickly.

" _Why_ are you _here_?"

Alani seemed flustered by his stonewalling but she went with it, letting the question die in her throat and pressing ahead despite her clear anxiety in his presence. He could tell he made her nervous and that pleased him.

"Mr. Rath-"

" _Seriously?_ "

She winced and tried again, "Okay, uhm... Verod?"

"No."

She bit her lip, hesitated, then steadied herself, " _Rath_ then, I'm here because the captain wanted you to know we are two hours out from the Imperium port on Tempest."

He crossed his long arms over his chest, eying her dubiously, "That's _it_? He didn't need to send a messenger here for that."

The young woman took a step closer, past the entrance of his quarters without being asked to come in, her mannerism turning somewhat sheepish despite her bold motion. "Well... I volunteered to come down here to tell you myself. Because I... I wanted to talk to you..."

Rath gritted his teeth hard and swallowed the tight lump that instantly formed in his throat at the thought of hearing anymore words of comfort, of being made to think about the one thing he was desperately trying not to have parading back and forth across his burdened mind and heavy heart.

It took him a second to find his voice again, making sure it wouldn't crack with the emotions rushing through him. He must remain stoic.

"I don't have time for this."

"But... Apparently you have two hours."

Stoicism flashed to anger and Rath's eyes flashed red as he stood up, advancing toward the Eldrid monk. To her credit she stumbled back a bit but did not run from him, even as he towered over her and hissed his next words, "Get the hell out of here little girl before I wring you out like a used dishrag."

She gasped and pouted briefly but still stayed planted where she was, quivering in her fear of him but determined not to give in, "That was mean! And I know you wouldn't hurt one of your fellow Battleborn!"

"But I am no longer one of the Battleborn," he growled.

Alani drew herself up as tall as she could, daring to look him in the eye so he could see the tears gathered there that she was barely holding back. "But you _are_ , and you always will be. I'll leave but first I'm going to say what I came here to say because I think you need to hear it. And you're going to listen!"

The swordsman was surprised by her insistence and unexpected forcefulness, and the look in her eyes diffused his anger instantly so all that remained was the numbness that he was clinging so tightly to inside, like a ship's mast in a stormswept sea. Being numb was like wearing armor, and he knew what would happen if he let it go while such a war was raging inside of him. To feel it was dangerous and he wasn't going to let that happen, even if everyone around him thought he just didn't care.

But he was too tired to fight Alani on this either. She could say whatever she wanted, it wasn't going to change anything. Without another word Rath withdrew and returned to his cot, stretching back out and resuming his upward stare into nothing.

When it became apparent to her that this was all the reaction she was going to get from him, Alani took it as his agreement to hear her out and felt emboldened enough to take a seat in the chair beside his bed. He wasn't looking at her but she proceeded anyway.

"Rath, I just wanted to tell you, what happened wasn't your fault. I was there, I saw it. She chose to save you and there isn't anything you could have done. Blaming yourself and leaving the Battleborn isn't going to bring Thorn back, but if you stay you could help us keep her memory alive. I didn't know her, and I don't know you either really, but I would like to. And if you leave that will never happen. You'll disappear and that will be one less person who can help me learn who Thorn was."

She paused and he remained silent, seemingly paying her no attention and if he was listening he wasn't showing it. There was one more thing she wanted to say, but she wasn't sure if it was wise to mention. If he was determined to leave though she had one more card to play if she was going to get him to change his mind.

"... I felt it, when I touched you to heal you after Thorn pushed you... I felt what you felt." Her voice wavered and a tear slipped down her cheek as she remembered it, a feeling she had never experienced for herself but had immediately recognized as it coursed through him and into her in that moment.

Rath still said nothing, staring at the ceiling, but she saw his body tense at her words and a look of pain cross his angular features.

She let herself cry, tears falling freely as her heart broke for the man in front of her, he who was so desperately trying not to feel when she knew that inside he was falling apart. Emotion clouded her voice but Alani managed to get the words out, "You _loved_ her."

A big part of her expected him to switch back to anger then because anger was easy, to rage at her for daring to say it out loud, to throw her out of the room or scream or even stab her. She braced for impact but it never came. Instead she watched as a single tear broke free and slid down the side of Rath's face before he rolled away from her to face the wall, hiding his face and burrowing deeper into his silence.

"Thorn would have wanted you to stay," she said softly in a final effort, but there was no response. He was shut down, lost in it.

Alani thought about reaching out to him, but her instincts warned her not to cross that line. Whatever happened now, she could only take comfort in knowing she'd tried.

~O~

The sharp golden spires of Tempest pierced the veil of a pale red sky above, stretching so high that the the tips were nearly lost to the eye. At the outer edge where the ships came into port the winds were vicious and hot, sweeping across the wide open spaces ceaselessly while the dark chasms of the planet's lower levels waited to swallow up any careless travelers. Visitors to Tempest had to pass through a Jennerit checkpoint to get into the port settlement, and only the most honored guests and elite members of Imperium society were permitted through into the Echelon of the volatile planet's sprawling cities. There Jennerit style reigned, reflected in elaborate gold metal, shining red glass, and dark purple marble, with soaring ceilings and broad staircases.

Deande thought it was a truly lovely sight, and one she'd missed deeply. She tried drinking it in so she could savor the memory before returning to Nova and launching back out into the featureless black of space for another several months, but her enjoyment of it was tainted by Rath's sad departure. He'd said stiff goodbyes to the other Battleborn and accepted Deande's offer to pass through the checkpoint into the Echelon with him. His goodbye to her had been quiet, with few words exchanged, and he wasn't at all himself. She knew there was nothing she could say to him and dragging it out wasn't going to help him feel any better about the decision to leave. Despite what the others perhaps believed to be true, she knew this wasn't what Verod really wanted. It was what he thought he deserved.

She walked alone with a heavy heart back toward the port where everyone was waiting for her, trying not to think too much about how long it might be til she saw her fellow Jennerit again. He'd have no trouble getting accepted back into the gracious Empress Lenore's service but it meant he'd be very busy most of the time. And with her choosing to stay with the Battleborn it wasn't like she'd have many opportunities to visit him on Tempest. If she was being honest with herself, there was a chance she might never see her friend again.

This thought was still stuck in her mind when she reached the checkpoint, so it took her a moment to realize that there was no one there. The sword-wielding guards, usually decked out in dark red Vestments and sternly blocking the pass at the top of the main grand staircase flanked by stinger turrets, were strangely absent. Something was wrong.

The spymistress instinctively cloaked herself and immediately took off at a blinding sprint, through the pass and down the staircase to cross the long skybridge dividing the Echelon from the floating island that was Tempest's port. Far ahead her keen eyes saw at distance the reason for the guards' temporary abandonment of their post long before her ears picked up the telltale sounds of conflict, and she unfurled her Tessurium war fans in preparation of what she was running headlong into.

A good bloody fight was just what Deande needed to get her mind off of things.


	11. Connections

**_Happy New Year readers! I know it has been an AGE since I updated this story, and I wasn't sure I was going to but I've gotten MANY email requests not to leave it hanging so I decided to work on a new chapter. This one is a bit short but I have a few more planned over the next few weeks to finish this story and give it the ending I had in mind when I first started it, I hope you all enjoy it! And please feel free to leave me a note and let me know what you think :)_ _Missed you all!_**

ELEVEN

~O~

The Tempestian port looked like a bomb had gone off. Not even an hour before it had been a bustling interplanetary hub filled with trade, laughter, and life, but now it was all scattered carnage, screams, and destruction. It was a warzone. And Deande had seen enough of those in her long life to know when to stay out of it and when to wade in with fans blazing.

This time there would be no hesitation, she didn't even need a moment to think about it, because the people desperately defending the platform below her were _her_ people. Her Battleborn brethren, beset on all sides by an impossibly overwhelming number of Varelsi that were gating in from thin air right above them. Their writhing black bodies poured out of torn gashes of sky like streams of oil, suffocating and decimating everything they touched. A river of poison to wash them all away.

But she would not allow this to happen. Even if she had to rend every last one of those alien bastards to bits with her war fans herself she gladly would, until she had no breath left in her body. With that in mind she steeled herself to enter the fray below, readying to jump down, when a blurred figure came roaring past her with swords drawn and bloodlust in his eyes. Rath did not pause for even a second as he came to the edge, launching himself over without fear or concern for how far the drop was, diving headlong into the mass of Varelsi and beginning to chop them down in wide spinning sweeps around him. Deande found herself watching from the ledge above in awe of him, of his power and relentless drive to destroy them all. His enraged war cries rang out over the battlefield, drowning out any other voices, and as he threw himself headlong and swords blazing at the Varelsi Maligner materializing in the center of it all, Deande was sure that she heard Rath scream Thorn's name.

The spymistress wasted no more time in throwing herself over the side and into the fray alongside her fellow Jennerit warrior, immediately finding a rhythm with him as if they had planned their attacks in advance. It was simply that they had both dedicated themselves to the same grueling training, a lifetime spent honing their skills in the Imperium's military ranks so that battle came as second nature to them. They lived it, breathed it, and there was no place more like home than a battlefield to a Jennerit soldier, no matter what rank they had achieved.

She spun and slashed, dancing in and out around Rath's slashes and chops, felling Skulk after Skulk until the bodies piled up around them. They weren't dissipating faster than the Battleborn were felling them, but Deande could feel her arms growing heavier with fatigue and saw that Rath's momentum had slowed. They could not keep up this pace for much longer. It felt like there was just no end to them, these alien parasites pouring out of the sky on top of them.

From somewhere to her left she could hear the rattling blasts of Montana's machine gun, and see flashing bursts of plasma cannonfire that must have been Isic. And just when she was starting to feel too exhausted to stay in the fray a massive wave of shining blue water washed over the crowd, pushing and scattered the Varelsi away while it simultaneously filled Deande and the other Battleborn around her with a fresh surge of energy and vitality, spurring her to fight harder with a renewed sense of pending victory. She'd have to remember to thank the Eldrid water monk later for her timely refreshment – Alani always knew when her companions needed her most.

It took another long half hour but finally the last of them, a Varelsi Channeler, was sliced in half by Mellka's flashing arm blade, melting away into the red-tinged air like a shadow. The sudden silence in the wake of so much violent noise was jarring, the fighters' heavy breathing and the soft groans of injured Imperium soldiers the only sound. Rath stood near her, broad chest heaving with the aftermath of such a concentrated and enduring effort, but he was not looking at the devastation that had been Tempest's space port and was now basically a smoking crater. Nor was he looking at the Battleborn, who were beginning to collect themselves. Verod Rath was looking up, into the sky, past the edge of the atmosphere, up into the void of space, his eyes hazy with unspoken emotion, his fists clenched with rage. Even this fight, even the hundreds of Varelsi they had just destroyed together, was not enough to quench his hate and his need for vengeance.

Deande started toward him, not sure what she was going to say but feeling compelled to say _something_ to her friend, when Rath wordlessly spun on his heel and walked away from them all. The Battleborn watched him go, none of them tried to stop him because they knew it wouldn't do any good. He had made up his mind to separate himself from them. But Mellka muttered to Ghalt under her breath that she wasn't sure if the swordsman had come down to join the fight because he cared about his former teammates or because he wanted to spill as much Varelsi blood as possible. "I'd put my money on the latter," Ghalt sighed back. And Deande silently agreed, because she had seen the look on his face when he threw himself over the edge and into the fight. Rath was a man possessed. There was a shadow clinging to him, and however he needed to try and shake it, well that was his business. She had done all she could to help him, more than she'd thought herself capable of in fact. Nothing left the say.

~ O ~

"In light of the recent attack on Tempest's space port, as well as their unexpected invasion of Ekkunar, I think it's safe to assume that the Varelsi have not been as crippled by Rendain's defeat last year as we initially thought." Ghalt stood alongside a holographic projection showing the aftermath of the space port conflict, then slowly the screen shifted to display a satellite image taken over the Eldrid home planet just hours before – it was bleeding black all over its surface as the Varelsi continued to cover it, laying total claim to it. Soon there would be nothing left but Void. It was a sobering sight.

"So what the hell can we do about that?" Reyna's voice was harsh despite her relaxed body language, leaning back in her chair. No one who knew her would be fooled by her seemingly at-ease position – the Queen of the Rogues was never one to stand by and do nothing, and the fiery gleam in her one good eye showed her true nature.

The Captain sighed, glancing over at Phoebe who merely shrugged. "I have been assured that Kleese is working on a possible answer, but until then there just isn't much we can do except keep an ear out for other incidents of the Varelsi showing up unannounced in unexpected places in large numbers. There seems to be some sort of pattern emerging that may be a clue to their intention, and we'll fight them every step of the way until we figure out what their real goal is."

His answer was met by ringing silence in the room, and he knew they were all thinking that it wasn't much of a plan really. They were flying blind, trying to stop a flood with a thimble for all the good it was going to do until they knew more.

"Look guys, I know it isn't the most effective option, but it's _something_ , and doing something is always better than doing nothing. But if anybody has got a better idea I'm all ears."

Silence again, until a few seconds had passed and Mellka stood up from her seat, pounding her gauntlet on the table in front of her, "Then let's go find the fuckers and shred 'em up til our resident mad scientist figures this shit out!"

This time the others were roused from their silence, joining her in a hearty shout as they filed out of the war room, each tramping off to get geared up while Ghalt commanded Nova to scan nearby space for any Void blooms or obvious Varelsi activity. Their high spirits were a relief to him, and he knew he could thank Mel for that. She was a leader in her own right, keeping the morale of the Battleborn up even when things seemed grim or directionless. Her green eyes caught his gaze and she gave him a small wink and a smile before she slipped out with the others and headed down the hallway to sharpen her blade. He didn't know what he would do without her.

Ghalt felt a heavy twinge in his chest at the thought, feeling a new surge of sympathy for Rath's pain. It would be an even greater loss to have only just discovered a connection like that only to have it ripped away almost immediately, to have never had any opportunity to explore it, or even voice it aloud. Of course, Rath had not told anyone any of this, it wasn't like Ghalt knew for certain this was the swordsman's personal experience since he wasn't one to discuss emotions and didn't seem to be close enough to any of the Battleborn to trust them with such honesty, except perhaps Deande, but the spymistress was just as unfeeling and callous a Jennerit as there ever was. But still, there was a look in Rath's eyes when he returned from Ekkunar alone that Ghalt thought he recognized. It was the same anguish and sense of failing that he felt every time he even thought about losing Mellka.

So why did he continue to push her away? She had made it clear that she cared as much for him as he did for her, and it was just like her to not be afraid to show it, to have no fear. It was one of the things he loved about her. But Gault knew that the work they did out here, the lives they lead, were dangerous. Every time they went on a mission there was a chance one of them wasn't going to come back, and then they would be left with the unbearable pain of that loss if they ever gave in to their feelings. Mel would say she didn't care about that, that it was a greater thing to have known love and risked the loss of it then to live the rest of their lives being afraid to reach out.

Trevor Ghalt looked up at the door the feisty Eldrid mercenary had disappeared through only minutes before, and thought to himself, maybe she was right. Maybe it was time to stop being afraid.


	12. Adrift

***Author's Note* Hey guys! I have been getting a lot of messages asking for an update, and I am trying to update this story more often now so here it is! I was really looking forward to writing this part and I'm pretty exited for the next part of the story going forward from here. Hopefully you guys enjoy reading this latest installment! As always, I love to hear from you so don't hesitate to message me or leave a comment letting me know what you think.**

 **And as always, I don't own these characters or the world they inhabit, just this particular story is mine - all characters/names are the intellectual property of Gearbox/2K Games and designer John Mulkey :)**

TWELVE

~O~

She was floating, a sea of darkness stretching out around her into forever. There was no sound, no feeling, her body and mind suspended for what could easily have been mere seconds or endless centuries. Time had lost all meaning, and she wasn't even sure she knew her name anymore as she drifted along, letting the currents take her wherever they may. But she was not afraid.

This was always meant to be.

Inside her there was a deep sense of peace that she'd never believed she could find in life. Fitting then, that she would find it in death. But, _was_ she dead? She wasn't sure, she had never really thought about what the afterlife might hold – she'd always been too busy with the war-torn life she lead to contemplate such existential things. She had never feared death, in fact, as an Ekkuni Eldrid warrior and the last of the Aelfrin she'd laughed in the face of death while never wondering what might be next. If she was honest with herself, she had assumed it was _nothing_. An empty nothingness of void where everything that she was, both the good and the bad parts, would disappear.

This did not feel like _nothing_. It wasn't what she had expected to happen when she launched herself into that black hole so that Rath would survive.

The thought of him was like a lightning bolt out of a clear blue sky, lancing through her with a bright, painful clarity that shook her out of her hazy dream-state. She didn't know where she was, she didn't know if she was dead or alive or stuck inside some giant Varelsi demon that had been waiting to swallow her on the other side of that portal. What she _did_ know was that she had sacrificed herself to save a man who she had hardly even considered an ally before they took that mission on Ekkunar together.

And what was happening outside of this bubble now? Was Rath safe? Were the other Battleborn, her friends, able to stop the Varelsi advance across the last green planet? Or was Ekkunar darkened and dead now just like her homeworld had been? Were the Eldrid left as homeless and orphaned as she was?

The questions burning through her brain filled her with frustration, and the sea of tranquility she floated on began to feel more ominous. If she was dead it wasn't fair that she be stranded in eternity with nothing but her thoughts. What a cruel trick, to take everything but her mind! Perhaps this was punishment from the gods she had never really believed in – she had taken many lives in her pursuit of vengeance and it was unlikely that ALL of them were truly deserving of the death she dealt.

But she didn't feel she deserved this either. Purgatory? Really? That was bullshit. She had done a lot of good with the Battleborn, and her final act of sacrifice in the name of… Well, she wasn't entirely sure what her determination to save Verod Rath had been in the name of. And she didn't want to ponder it. But regardless of motivation it would seem to her that it would earn her a place in heaven, or at the very least the lasting relief of oblivion. She was instead getting something in between and didn't understand it.

So much for that peaceful feeling.

 _ **Quiet yourself, young soul.**_

A voice, powerful yet soothing, resonated through her and around her all at once. It filled her with a sense of knowing, of familiarity and awe, making her feel like a child as she indeed quieted immediately in response. The voice was neither feminine nor masculine, but somehow both at once and nearly palpable in Thorn's mind. It felt like a great hand gently caressing the back of her head, holding her ever so lightly. It felt safe. It felt like the home she had never imagined but always longed for.

She relaxed into the feeling, and what had been deepest darkness all around her faded away into the most beautiful twilight she had ever seen. It was the color of the forest only moments after a brilliant sunset had slipped below the horizon, warm light lingering on green leaves. It comforted her, eased her mind, and the voice surrounded her again.

 _ **Yes, you are safe here.**_

Thorn tried to speak, but found she had no voice of her own, she wasn't even sure she had a mouth. Anxiety swelled in her chest then quickly faded away as the voice returned and warmth replaced the fleeting negative feeling.

 _ **No need for words young one, I can hear your heart. Your mind.**_

 _"But where is here? Am I dead?"_

 _ **Yes, and No. You are in the Ether, the particles of energy that make up your being suspended and at one with the universe beyond the boundaries of what your conscious mind recognizes as reality. But there are many planes of existence where matter assembles in an infinite array of forms. This place is one of them.**_

 _"How did I get here? Is this what happens when you die in our world?"_

 _ **When your body passed through the portal, your soul crossed out of your plane and into another, into the Shadow. That place is inhabited by darkness, by beings of malicious hunger and endless appetite. You would have been consumed there. But I heard your soul echo across the barriers between worlds and I drew you into mine, here in the Ether, before they could take you. This kept you intact, and here you are safe.**_

" _Why would you save me? Who are you? WHAT are you?"_

 _ **I am the last of the old ones, child. The ancient gods of the cosmos who built your reality eons ago, then watched it bloom. But now we are faded, forgotten, barely named anymore. Even so, I heard your heart in the dark. You are one of my creations. You are the last of the Aelfrin, a seed of life that cannot be allowed to fade as so much else has faded.**_

The soft green illumination around Thorn brightened, revealing a willowy being shaped completely from light and warmth, almost too much to look directly at. It was towering but not imposing and filled Thorn's vision so it seemed that there was nothing else for her eyes to see. She could feel it looking deeply into her soul though it had no apparent eyes, no face. Everything the Eldrid warrior was, had ever been, was laid bare before this being's calm regard. But she did not feel judged, she felt welcomed. She was happy to spend eternity like this, her tumultuous spirit finally at peace.

 _ **I'm sorry my child, but you cannot stay here with me. Your time will come, but it is not now.**_

" _What? But why? There is nothing for me in the life I left, just pain and anger and endless suffering. I don't want anymore, I can't do it anymore."_

 _ **You're wrong. There was love in your life, friendship, family. And those ties call you back now, those bonds yet unbroken. There are still worlds that need healing, lives that need saving, and you belong there in that fight, alongside those who need you.**_

" _I did enough, I spent my whole life in battle, this fight or that, sometimes with allies but I always felt alone. I'm so tired of fighting. And they can go on without me, they never really needed me in the first place."_

 _ **They did. And they still do. A darkness is coming that they cannot fight alone, they will need your fire. Only united can you preserve the light in the universe. If you fail the light will go dim, I will go dim, and the cosmos will be plunged into shadow for eons. The hunger of that darkness will consume all. It has already begun. This is why you must return.**_

Thorn let the being's message seep into her, the knowledge that her friends were in danger, that something bigger than anything they'd faced before was coming their way. And to do nothing was to see the end of all things as they knew them. She may be safe here in the Ether, but that meant nothing if the few things she had loved in the world were lost to darkness. A new sense of resolve and determination filled her chest, swelling her heart.

Well, she had never been one to stand aside and just let shit happen.

" _Tell me what I need to do."_

 _ **I will send you back to the reality you knew, but much time has passed there. Time flows much slower here than in the world you left. It will be a shock, but you must make them believe your message and take action with due haste. Not even I can know how much time is left, but the tide is quickly rising.**_

" _What if we can't stop it?"_

 _ **Take heart young one, for there are some things I know with certainty. If you stand united with your brethren the darkness cannot overtake you, the light will be preserved and the shadow will retreat back into its own realm.**_

" _If you mean the Varelsi are the darkness, I don't know how we can stop them. They can come from anywhere and in such great numbers, overtaking them seems impossible."_

 _ **What you call 'Varelsi' are only the spawn of a greater being. Like myself, they are an ancient one trapped in a plane of their own existence, the Varelsi were created as a means of reaching beyond those limitations to manipulate and consume as much of other worlds as possible. But their hunger has grown, and they have found a way to break the bonds holding them back from crossing over into your world. There are key places in the cosmos that must be darkened to establish anchors for their passage, your homeworld was one of them and many more have followed. They are close to their goal, needing one last star to be consumed before they can come through. This cannot be allowed to happen.**_

" _How will I know where this place is?"_

 _ **I will show you, I will give you the knowledge to show them the way. The place is deep in the unexplored reaches of space, a place of emptiness and cold black expanse. There is where they waits behind the door, waiting for the lock to fall away. Close the door and seal it, be the key to lock them away forever.**_

As the being spoke Thorn could see it all in her mind's eye, the stars that would lead them there and show them the way like a trail of light through space. A path leading to a door in the heart of the galaxy, where they would find an all-consuming shadow waiting to be freed. Connected this way to the consciousness of the old one, she could feel a blistering fear and bone-cracking cold that made her understand just how dire it was. The demon she had imagined on the other side of the portal, waiting to devour her in the Void when she fell up into the sky, that demon was _real._

 _ **It is time to go home now child.**_

" _I have no home."_

 _ **Your friends are your home, your family. You have always had that which you sought. And they are waiting for you.**_

Thorn took a deep breath and let it go, knowing that was indeed her truth.

The light slipped away and she felt herself sinking into the sea of oblivion that had held her up. Still she felt no fear - she knew she was protected and that the benevolent being was simply guiding her back through the Ether to return to her world. Something told her it was going to be painful but she would steel herself against it. There was a lot more at stake here than her comfort, her peace of mind. She was but a small piece of something far greater, and sacrifice was nothing new to her.

As her mind began closing, drifting her gently into unconsciousness, she heard that sweet voice echo through her one more time, though this time it was so faint so could barely hear it, barely feel it. All the same it was a comfort to her, and a reminder of what she must do, of the heavy burden she must bear. But Teshka Elessamorn would bear it with pride.

 _ **Beautiful soul, last of the Aelfrin, Eldrid warrior, born of battle, you are Our shieldmaiden. All Our hopes go with you.**_


	13. Life Goes On

_**Hey guys! A bit of a long chapter here, but I already have most of the chapter after this one completed - it was too big and I had to break it up into smaller parts. Much more drama and action to come, I hope you guys enjoy. You know I love to hear from my readers so please feel free to let me know what you think :)**_

 ** _*As always, I do not own these characters, names, likenesses, or the world in which they live - I only borrow them ;)*_**

THIRTEEN

~O~

Captain Trevor Gault had seen countless battles, assumed command of seemingly hopeless situations and turned them into victories, barely avoided being blown to bits, taken a bullet in a firefight, and all this without even batting an eyelid. But if he was such a badass why was he feeling so helpless standing in front of this slender Eldrid mercenary woman? Her bi-colored eyes bore into him, her hand resting on her hip with the elbow cocked out in her usual way, waiting for him to say something. He had been the one to barge into the locker room and storm straight up to her after all. But once she turned that gaze on him he was helpless, speechless. And he could tell she was quickly losing patience.

"Ya got something to say, Captain?" There was a knowing smirk teasing at the corners of Mellka's mouth, like she knew he was at a complete loss. He couldn't find the words, though he had thought he knew what he wanted to say when he'd burst out of the control room and navigated the hallways with the newfound confidence of a man who was sure. Now his tongue felt like lead, he could only stare dumbly at her in silence, willing his throat to work. Willing the words to come, to tell her how he felt.

Mellka waited another minute then finally sighed in exasperation, rolling her eyes and beginning to turn away to leave, disappointment clear on her face. It cut him to the core to see it, to know he had put it there. It was time to stop being such a bitch and start acting like a commander.

He didn't hesitate this time, reaching out to grab her wrist before she could walk away and pulling her back to him. She let out a small sound of surprise, allowing herself to be pulled against his broad chest, then another small gasp when he took a step forward to push her back against the lockers behind her. It was her turn to be speechless, looking up at him questioningly to decode his sudden shift in mood, but Gault didn't give her a chance to find her voice.

Instead, he let out a low growl and dipped his head to press his lips against hers, circling his arms around her, surrounding her, crushing her against him. Mellka instantly felt herself melt into him, a rush of adrenaline and heat in her veins as she moaned softly and held him just as tightly. This was what she had been waiting for, hoping for, but secretly never believing would happen since Trevor had always been so worried about mixing business and pleasure. But life was short, too short to deny something so real, and it felt like he had finally figured that out.

He broke the kiss, much to her dismay, but that brief disappointment was replaced quickly with another rush of excitement as he swept her up effortlessly into his strong arms and began carrying her off, a fierce look of passionate determination in his eyes. Mel had never really been the damsel-type but she allowed herself to be carried like one, enjoying the pressure of anticipation building up in every cell of her body.

It quickly became clear that he was taking her to his private quarters, and the hallways were blessedly empty. Not that she would have cared if anyone saw them together.

Once they were alone in his room he laid her down on his bed and held himself over her, looking down at her in such a way that it made her heart flutter in her chest. She reached for him, her fingers sliding down the firm muscles of his stomach and questing lower until they found the buckle on his belt. As she started to undo it he placed his hand over hers, stalling her momentarily, and looked into her eyes, "Mel, you sure about this? Once we cross the line, there's no going ba-"

'Shutup Captain," she cut him off, pulling him down into a fierce kiss, her fingers deftly opening his belt. All hesitation was erased from his mind as Trevor Gault gladly gave in to the woman he loved.

~O~

 _TWO YEARS LATER…_

This was getting old. _Really_ fucking old. Every time they thought they had beaten the Varelsi back the alien bastards would pop up again in another sector of known space, pouring out of the void and dumping their shit allover the nearest planet. Mellka was so sick of it she could hardly breathe without wanting to scream. And the worst part of it was there just didn't seem to be much rhyme or reason to it, only a mad erratic scramble to take as much territory as they possibly could. But to what purpose? Once the Varelsi had darkened a world they seemed to just wait there, possessing it but nothing further – no building, no mining, no harvesting, nothing. They just hovered over it like ghosts.

Like they were waiting for something.

Phoebe, in her undeniable brilliance (and she _was_ brilliant, and beautiful, just ask her) had postulated that the seemingly random pattern the Varelsi invasions followed were actually not random at all. It was possibly a gambit intended to distract, keeping them busy while the invaders' true intentions remained unknown and clandestine. So long as the Battleborn were busy chasing ghosts, so to speak, they would be unable to determine what the Varelsi were really doing.

The others had responded to her theory by asking what they were supposed to do then, just stop trying to stem the Varelsi tide and let it wash away star systems just so they could figure out where they were going with it? Phoebe had scoffed, rolling her eyes, snapping back that planning out every move they made wasn't her job.

It hadn't been a particularly productive meeting.

To Mellka, and to all of them really, it felt like they were just treading water but not getting anywhere, barely keeping their heads above the surface. And they were getting tired. But The Varelsi were tireless. Logically that meant it was only a matter of time before they were unable to stop them. Something had to change, and soon, but they had no direction to go, no leads to follow.

All-in-all, it sucked. Feeling helpless sucked. Failing sucked. The Battleborn would continue to fight until they had no fight left in them, they would never give up. But knowing the end is coming and being powerless to stop it felt a lot like giving in.

She shook those thoughts away for the moment, opening the sliding pressurized door that led onto the bridge of Nova. Her husband smiled when he saw her, and she greeted Gault with a soft kiss as she came to stand beside him in his Captain's chair. No matter how hopeless everything else seemed, they had each other and that would always be something. It hadn't taken long for them to get married after that first night together - they had known one another for such a long time and their love was already old and comfortable for them both, sealing it just felt right. It had been a less-than-legal Eldrid ceremony, standing in this very room while Miko, in all their wisdom and caring, had waxed poetic about the strength of the bond of love born in friendship. Alani had cried when they kissed and then they all got raging drunk together that night in celebration, all of the Battleborn united in a rare moment of happiness.

Well, not _all_ of them.

The thought of Thorn was still a painful one; no matter how much time had gone by Mellka still missed her friend terribly. She knew more than one of them had been sharply aware of Thorn's absence on the night of Mel and Trevor's wedding, though none of them spoke of it. Boldur had given Mel away, and she knew the old Ekkuni dwarf was struggling to keep his emotions in check as he'd been uncharacteristically silent. Really, Boldur had not been the same since Thorn's death. Few of them had, but he more than anyone else. With, perhaps, the exception of one other.

Rath was missing from the festivities as well, though they had invited him to come celebrate with his former Battleborn brethren. He had declined, unsurprisingly, and the only one of them who had even seen him since his return to the service of Her Imperial Majesty the Empress Lenore, was Deande. She visited him on her own once every few months just to check in and see how he was doing, though under the guise of getting a report from him on the military movements of The Jennerit Empire as he was a general now.

To hear the spymistress tell it, he was stoic and quiet, businesslike and somewhat withdrawn but the swordsman always asked after the affairs of the Battleborn. "To make sure nobody has gotten themselves killed" since he "wasn't around to save their asses," as he put it. But Deande could see the pain and concern that Rath worked so hard to conceal, even if she would never point it out or force him to acknowledge it. They were warriors, and all warriors carried a burden of pain and regret that was theirs and theirs alone to bear. Alani, Miko, and Montana may all have felt that discussing their feelings and "getting it all out on the open" was healthy and necessary, but Deande was too pragmatic to see any logical usefulness in such a practice.

It wasn't that she didn't _have_ any feelings, as most others believed to be the case. She could feel, often great sweeping feelings in fact that threatened to spill over into her carefully cultivated calm demeanor. But she kept those feelings sharply in check, allowing only what small showing was needed depending on the situation she found herself in, to create a bond that worked in her favor or to show just enough humanity that another trusted her when she needed them to. She recognized that emotions were a tool and manipulating them was a very useful skill. But beyond that they were dangerous – allowing oneself to succumb to emotion was weakness, it created vulnerability and an opportunity for others to take advantage.

Deande knew that Rath had given in to a tsunami of emotions when Thorn had died, and he had never fully recovered from that. If he felt shame for it, loathed himself for such weakness, or simply still felt himself in mourning and wanted to hide it, she didn't know. They did not discuss such things. She would call him a friend, he might even call her one, but they were both proud members of the Empire and with that came a certain measure of personal restraint.

Still, she could not shake the twinge of pity she felt when she looked into that well of sadness that filled the depths of his eyes. If he knew she pitied him he would skewer her in his indignant rage, so of course the spymistress had given no indication that she felt it. But it was there, and it was the reason she made sure to pay him a visit now and then. He wouldn't come to her or any of his former teammates, so she went to him, and though he always acted annoyed and like he was too busy for social calls Deande knew he was pleased to be in the loop. Possibly even pleased by her company specifically? She wouldn't venture to guess on that. Verod Rath had become even more guarded in the last two years since leaving the Battleborn than he had ever been before, and he'd been an iron fortress before. Until Thorn.

It was proof enough for Deande that allowing someone past your armor only invited devastation. She would never make that mistake, and she was sure that Rath never would again either. Some lessons were hard learned but really stuck with you if you bled for them.

~ O ~

Oscar Mike watched Nova's many monitors blip and cycle as they scanned the far reaches of space for Varelsi activity. Or, well, probably ANY activity, he didn't really know much about the sciency side of the job, that was for Kleese and Phoebe to figure out. And he was no flight captain either – he was a soldier! Tried and true! Those bleep-bloops on the screen didn't mean jack to him and he'd rather be doing some pushups than watching them. It made his eyes blur with boredom. But a soldier's duty was to follow his commander's orders, and Gault had _c_ _ommanded_ that Mike take a turn watching the monitors for activity while the Captain went to get a little R &R (more like some T&A with that smokin' hot wife of his, the lucky bastard).

So here he was, observing. Montana and Foxtrot had stopped by earlier with a couple of cold ones, but they had eventually wandered off to hit the mess hall then hit the hay, leaving Mike alone on the bridge. Those sweet brewskies were just a memory now, except for the empty bottles littering the console. Oh, the Captain wasn't going to be happy about that in the morning.

His boredom peaked, and the soldier groaned, opting for swiveling his chair as fast as he could to see how many rotations he could get before it tossed him out. Mike was on his fourth attempt beginning to feel motion sick but determined to break 10 rotations (so far nine rotations seemed to be the max), when the console burst the silence of the room with a sudden string of alerts. It startled him so badly it bowled him over backwards in the chair and he had to scramble back up onto his feet to see what had caused the system to respond.

There was a huge void bloom opening up only a few thousand meters in front of their current course, and he could _see_ it out there in front of them, a flash of brilliant pale green light ripping open the black blanket of distant stars and empty space, spilling light across the nothingness and lighting up the bridge of Nova like daylight.

"Holy shit," Mike swore, his eyes wide and dazed with the sudden brightness, his brain stunned by the beauty of what he was seeing. It didn't look like any Varelsi void bloom he had ever seen before – it wasn't dark, inky tar leaking out to erase everything around it. No, this was pretty, and looking at it made Oscar Mike feel calm, peaceful. It made him want to go into it, not run away from it. Then, as he watched, something emerged from the center of the light. It was a bubble of some kind, but made of the same ethereal mellow light, and silhouetted within the bubble was… A person? It looked like the shape of a person, even from this distance there could be no mistaking it. The light around it began to fade as the portal that had delivered the bubble slowly rippled outward and faded, reminding Mike of a wave withdrawing from the shore.

Without taking his eyes off the bubble, he reached over and hit the comm button that connected directly to Gault and Mellka's quarters. It only took a moment for Trevor's sleepy, gruff voice to bark back, "This better be good Mike."

"Yeah, uh, Captain, you're gonna want to see this man. Like, now."

Oscar Mike wasn't even sure if he had already released the comm button or not before he swore again out loud, staring as Nova drifted closer to the figure in the strange bubble of light, " _Holy shit…"_


	14. Visitation, Manipulation

**Author's** **Note:** **Hey guys! I know it has been awhile since I posted, things have been so crazy for me IRL lately but I haven't forgotten about this story. I have a vision in mind, I know where it's headed and we're almost there! Climax coming soon! Meanwhile, please enjoy this rather long chapter :) It's a bit unexpected, I surprised myself even, but I had a lot of fun writing it so I hope you guys like it. Also, I would really like to thank those of you who continue to email/message me and offer your ongoing support for this story and me as a writer. It means so much! :) As always, please let me know what you think - your opinion is so valuable to me.**

 **WARNING:** **This chapter may be a bit more risque than previous chapters!**

FOURTEEN

~O~

Rath leaned moodily against the low wall that surrounded the training ground and watched the newest recruits sparring in pairs with a scowl. They were subpar, too young, untested. A bunch of inexperienced hothead youths who wanted to join the ranks of the Imperium's elite military force because of all the stories circulating through the galaxy that made a life spent in battle seem glamorous.

They were stupid. Battle was not glamorous, it was _art_. It was glory and honor in service and in death. You didn't join up because you wanted to be _famous_ , and he was disgusted by the conversations and boasts he overheard from these newest recruits about how they couldn't wait until their names were known across the star systems like _Verod Rath_. It made his blood boil, and even as he thought about it, watching them fumbling and flailing ineptly at one another with their dull-edged practice blades, he felt his lips draw back in a snarl. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to draw his own battle-tested blades and teach them all a very painful lesson just before expelling them from the training academy.

In reality he knew he shouldn't even be here. Since his recent promotion to rank of General in Her Imperial Majesty's army he was no longer expected to be hands-on with the training of new recruits or even the ongoing training of those veterans beneath him. His duties were to oversee the battle strategies that would net them victory against the Varelsi threat in skirmishes that were growing ever-more-frequent across multiple systems, to coordinate the force's movements and attacks with any cooperating allies, delegate battlefield duties to his officers, and assume command on the field when they were on the ground and inspire his warriors to fight, to win.

He was also, unofficially, the liaison between the Imperium's forces and the Battleborn. This was a task that fell obviously to him because of his former affiliation with the team, and his ongoing association with some of their members, but Rath frequently complained about it. It made his heart feel heavy whenever he thought about the Battleborn, about the things they had lost, about her…

He pushed away from the wall and strode purposefully toward the nearest pair of sparring recruits, shutting that damnable thought down fast and completely before it had even fully formed. Rath had erected an iron curtain between his mind and his heart when it came to that particular piece of his past, and he had no plans of ever lifting it again. He would allow himself to feel rage, lust, indifference, disgust, perhaps exaltation in the heat of battle, and the singular pleasure of victory over the enemy, but nothing further. Certainly nothing as useless and damaging and dangerous as love. The word itself made him want to run his blade through someone. He doubted that was even what he had felt in the first place. It had been new and powerful, then gone in an instant, replaced just as suddenly by a crushing wave of despair that he had not understood at the time and did not care to further evaluate now. Whatever it had been, it had left him and he knew better than to let it back in. Not that there was must risk of that since the source of that feeling was so utterly gone. She was gone. It didn't matter anymore.

Anger reared up in the swordsman's chest and he let it fuel him, let it take him over until he was comfortably focused on nothing but that feeling instead of any other. The recruits he approached looked up and he could see the startle of fright in their eyes at seeing him coming their way. He must have looked like he felt, and he enjoyed knowing they feared him. That was as it should be.

When he reached them he picked up one of the extra sparring weapons on a rack nearby, brandishing it gracefully. It was well-weighted and long, crafted with the same excellence and attention to detail as anything the Jennerit created, even if this sword had no edge. Still he said nothing, though the two recruits had stopped what they were doing and stared at him, waiting for their commander to speak. Rath didn't know their names and he didn't care, it hardly mattered. If they proved themselves then he would go to the trouble of remembering them, until then they might as well be faceless tools, a simple means to an end.

Standing relaxed, the practice sword down by his side and his own blades still tucked in their sheaths, Rath regarded the two young men coolly. He saw a few other recruits close to them had stopped sparring as well, noticing the lead officer standing amongst them as if he were waiting for something. Slowly, after a minute or so, all 125 trainees in the marble courtyard ceased their exchanges and turned their attention to Rath. A hush settled over them, as if they knew something was about to happen, and even the staff of training officers stepped away and fell silent, looking to the General in silent puzzlement but staying silent and keeping their distance out of their great respect for him.

When he knew that he had the full attention of every soul present, the elite swordmaster spoke in a voice that was deep, resonating, and gravely serious.

"Today you will be tested, and only the worthy will emerge as full members of this illustrious Imperium's force, the unyielding right arm of our Exalted Majesty the Empress Lenore. Prove your worth now and take your place among the most respected and feared warriors in these may galaxies. Those that can hit me will be welcomed into our ranks – those who cannot will be _expelled_. Now, all of you, _ATTACK!_ "

His voice boomed across the space, echoing back as it bounced off the soaring marble walls of the outer palace. A ringing moment of silence followed as the recruits glanced at one another, glanced at their trainers (who still said nothing, only waiting to see what their General would do), trying to determine if this was for real. But to their credit their hesitation was short-lived as several of them gave the best war-cry they could manage and charged the tall, powerful older warrior. This bolstered the rest and soon all 125 were converging on Rath, intent on proving themselves and winning his approval.

As they surged toward him Rath almost smiled to himself, his grip on the practice sword tightening. This was going to be fun.

~O~

Deande watched from the shadows of the barracks' south wall as Verod Rath spun and slashed and kicked his way through a pile of young, inexperienced warriors. The poor kids all looked desperate and beaten down, though many of them kept trying in vain to find an opening in the swordmaster's impeccable defense. He wasn't even using his own blades, Axiom and Order, just wielding some plain-looking longsword that flashed dully in the dying afternoon light. It was all he needed though, and it really was a bit of a pitiful display to see how hard those recruits wanted to succeed but knowing they had no chance, even with Rath handicapping himself.

A few of them made a better showing of it and proved to be more of a challenge to deal with, which the spymistress assumed was the point of this little exercise. That, and obviously it was about Rath's ego. About his need to lose himself, his unabating anger at himself and everyone around him, his impatience with the shortcomings of others, and intolerance for his own shortcomings. Although she supposed that last part had always been the case. Rath was not a patient man. And she knew he had finally found a way to master his emotions in the wake of Thorn's loss. However he needed to deal with it, she supported that. And those whelps out there could take a valuable lesson away from his harsh treatment of them anyway. Better to find out now that you couldn't hack it and have to tuck your tail in and go home than to get killed out on the battlefield.

It didn't take long for the "lesson" to conclude, with all but a small crowd of perhaps 30 recruits being sent to collect their things and go home. For the ones who had proven themselves, they were to resume their training immediately, and to train harder. Rath barked at them that another culling was to come in one month's time, at which point they must be able to last half a minute in single combat against him or suffer the same shameful dismissal as the rest. This earned him several glares of resentment and a few wide-eyed incredulous stares, but he was done with them and had turned away already, heading back in the direction of the courtyard's southern exit. Behind him the trainers shouted at the young warriors to get back to work and they all hopped quickly to do so.

Rath walked slowly toward her but he hadn't seen her yet – no one ever saw her, really, unless she wanted them to – and she took the opportunity to study her fellow Jennerit warrior from the shadows, when he thought no one was watching him.

The deep lines of his stoic face had deepened over the last few years, causing him to look even more severe than he had before. It gave him an intensity edged with sorrow that he could not hide no matter how hard he tried to cover it with the mask of anger. Anyone willing to look Rath in the eyes would see it there, but few were brave enough for that. He had become more volatile and temperamental, outbursts of anger alternating with moody bouts of tense silence his preferred language these days.

Deande let her eyes linger appreciatively on his long, strong form as he came closer. No one would call the swordmaster classically handsome, for he was not good-looking in the obvious traditional way that most defined that word. His looks were dark and sharp, hawkish almost, in a way that echoed his predatory nature as a warrior, and those red eyes could burn a hole straight through you. His physique was as finely honed and strong as the blade of one of his swords, with a broad chest and shoulders but a narrow waist, long and leanly muscled limbs. And he moved with a natural, easy grace that gave Deande wicked thoughts of what else he might be able to do with that body of his.

She smiled to herself at the thought. Her attraction to him was born more out of his ferocity in battle than anything physical, she knew. Few things stirred the spymistress' blood more than witnessing the unbridled bloodfury of a matchless warrior tearing apart their enemies on the battlefield, and this attraction was not limited to the male species of the star systems. Deande was, above all things, an opportunist. She would never be foolish enough to limit her options in any situation. In fact, she'd had her eye on a certain Eldrid female warrior before shit went sideways. It had been a purely physical attraction, of course. Deande did not get emotionally involved. Emotions complicated things. Nobody knew that better than Rath.

He began to pass her and she debated letting him go without making herself known. His temper was unpredictable and though she did not fear him neither was she stupid enough to think that poking a bear was a good idea. It was unlikely he would appreciate being watched. But she had come here for a specific reason and now was as good a time as any to speak with him. And secretly she took pleasure in letting him know that for all his skills in open combat she could still, and always, get the drop on him. With this fact in mind, and a tiny smirk adding tension to the corners of her crimson-painted lips, Deande reached from the shadows and stroked a single pale finger down the passing swordsman's chest.

As she expected he might, Rath reacted with violence. Snatching her wrist with lightning fast reflexes and dragging her body close against his, his other hand went to her throat with a vice-like grip and picked her up so her toes barely brushed the ground. She allowed this assault, putting up no resistance and her face remaining perfectly passive as she looked up at him. His eyes burned scarlet red with rage, his slightly pointed teeth bared in a snarl as he regarded his attacker and pressed his face in close to hers. But it took only a breath for him to realize it was Deande, the fury draining out of his features to be replaced with suspicion. He eased his grip on her delicate throat but did not release her from the hold, only backing his face away from hers slightly and continuing to keep her tight against him, her wrist clamped painfully in his large hand and the attached arm twisted up behind her back.

"What do you want Deande? You spy on _me_ now?" His voice was a low growl, his mouth only an inch from hers, his eyes flashing. She felt a flush of warmth course through her – she was enjoying the game, for a game it was. They both knew that if she really wanted him to let her go then he would have no hope of keeping hold of her - she would be out of his grip like smoke through futilely grasping fingers. But for the moment she let him control the encounter, relaxing into his hands.

She paused a long moment, regarding him in silence and letting the tension mount before she answered him in a seductive purr. "Why, aren't you happy to see me Verod? It's been awhile, hasn't it? Such a long, long time for you…" As she spoke she reached with her free hand to trail her fingertips lightly down his solid chest, down to his waist, and gave his belt a meaningful tug to punctuate her suggestive words.

Rath scoffed in disgust at her obvious play to make him uncomfortable and dropped the Jennerit spymaster before turning to continue walking in the direction he'd been going before she interrupted him. Deande landed lightly and effortlessly on her feet, immediately falling into step beside him, undaunted by his disinterest. It was only a game after all.

"I don't have time to entertain you, and no desire to either. Go harass someone else if you are bored Deande."

She feigned a pout, 'Aw, come now, I did not come to harass you. I came to speak with you. Playing with you is only a side benefit of my business here."

"If you came to speak with me then _speak_. Tell me your news, and it had better be good. My patience is wearing thin."

She gave a small mocking laugh, which drew a sharp look from him. His patience had started out about as thick as paper. But she decided not to comment on this, instead turning to the business at hand. Mostly.

"You could offer me even a shred of hospitality first, you know, as if we actually knew each other and had served beside each other on the field of battle a hundred times?" The edge of sarcasm in her voice was positively razor sharp.

Rath grunted and said nothing but motioned for her to follow him up the long golden marble staircase, leading her up to its top landing and then down a marvelous corridor of smooth golden walls and ruby red crystal light fixtures. She didn't spend anywhere near enough time in the Imperium these days and she missed the opulent grandeur of its structures and décor. It was certainly more to her taste than the cold grey utilitarian design of the Battleborn's ship, headquarters, and home, Nova. So she pleasantly spent the long walk to his quarters in easy silence while she drank in her surroundings, as Rath made no attempts to engage in casual conversation and she didn't prod him.

Speaking of utilitarianism, Rath's private quarters were a study in it. She shouldn't have been surprised, though she realized that is was the first time she had ever been invited into his rooms. There were two moderately-sized spaces divided only by a sheer curtain that was currently tied back so the two rooms connected. It was obviously designed to be a living space and a sleeping space, but Rath had turned one of them into a training room with racks of various weapons lining the walls and a heavy training dummy standing in the center of the marble expanse of floor. Otherwise it was bare.

In his living room, where she currently stood, there was only a perfectly-made bed on a foot-high raised marble step with a single thin blanket for covering and no headboard or footboard. A plain ebony stool sat in one corner with a small round table placed alongside it, and no other furniture populated the room aside from a tall carved armoire with double doors and several drawers. She assumed that was where he kept his clothing and other personal items, as well as spare linens. Another corner was occupied by a small standing shower with no door, the floor simply sloping down into a drain positioned underneath the hanging showerhead – towels and a glass flask containing some clear viscous liquid (probably simple soap) sat on a small shelf within arm's reach of the shower. To the side of that was a narrow doorway covered by a sliding partition, and this she knew to be the bathroom. A sink would likely be in there as well, and she was simultaneously impressed that Rath's station allowed for him to have such private facilities in his private quarters, and disappointed that he clearly took no joy in making the space his own. It was about as personal as a hotel room, perhaps even less so.

It smelled clean and airy, a well-cared for space that he was meticulous about but likely spent very little time in. She took all this in within a single sweeping glance as she moved from the door to the bed, seating herself confidently and crossing her long legs as if the room were hers. Deande smiled coyly up at the scowling swordsman, daring him to say something. Of course, he did.

"Just make yourself at home," he growled, already in an ill humor and definitely ill at ease having someone else in his space. She tittered in amusement, leaning back on her elbows and feeling the surprisingly comfortable mattress shift under her sleight weight.

"I certainly will. Besides, there is no where to sit in here! What do you do when you aren't sleeping or training Verod, just stand around like livestock out at pasture?" Her tone was teasing, trying to keep things lighthearted before she broke her not-so-light news.

He scoffed, not dignifying her taunt with a response, and stalked over to the armoire. He opened one side of the cabinet to reveal, to Deande's surprise and delight, a beautiful mirrored gold tray holding a red crystal carafe full of a richly dark fluid and two exquisite red crystal drinking glasses. He picked all 3 items up in his large hands and carried them to the table, then seated himself on the stool near her, sliding the crystal stopper out of the carafe. She slid over closer to him excitedly, but still quite aware that she pressed her knee against his in her newly calculated proximity, her eyes lighting up as he poured the drink.

"Oh, _Jennerit wine!_ I haven't had the pleasure of tasting any since my personal supply ran out aboard the Nova nearly 3 months ago! It would have lasted me longer, but I caught those buffoons Mike and Montana in my room drinking it when they thought I was out on a recon mission. It was the second time I caught them at it - too bad I hadn't had the forethought to poison the wine before I left this time."

Rath glanced at her face, mostly to discern if she was kidding with that last remark. Her starkly beautiful face gave nothing away, except what she wanted to give away. She could have been entirely serious, he knew. She was capable of that, and capable of many deeds even darker than that. This woman was dangerous in a way that few could truly appreciate or comprehend, especially considering her uncanny ability to seem so very personable and innocently unassuming. Any who made the mistake of underestimating her would rarely live to repeat that mistake a second time. But Rath was no fool – he saw her for exactly what she was and did not flinch.

She took the offered glass with a delicate hand, letting her fingertips brush against Rath's as she did so. It was an obvious gesture she knew, but she realized that subtle overtures would just as ignored as more blatant ones, so she was going to have her fun and the swordmaster was unlikely to do anything to stop her since he didn't take any of it seriously. And did she mean it seriously? Most of her toying with him was under the assumption that he would never respond to her, never take her up on the offer. But what if he did? What would she do it he suddenly became amenable to the idea and called her bluff?

Deande doubted she would have to find out how far she was willing to take the game. Rath surely would believe that the spymistress was entirely capable of putting her money where her mouth was, so-to-speak.

The wine was good, so very good; a smoky bittersweet bouquet with just the faintest edge of something metallic that immediately brought to mind fresh blood. She moaned in unabashed appreciation of the drink and reclined against the wall beside Rath on his stool, closing her eyes in pleasure. He watched her, sipping from his own glass, and thought to himself that she was particularly alluring with the red bloom of the wine about her lips, a tiny droplet settled into the inviting corner of her mouth. She made no attempt to lick it away though it was on the verge of running down over her chin. The stoic man experience a very brief but very intense and irrational impulse to lean over and lick it away himself, which he quickly denied and chastised himself for such a moment of weakness.

The truth was, though, that it had been awhile for him. And while he was in complete and perfect control of his physical being, the fact remained that Rath was a strong, healthy, virile warrior, still well in his middle age by the standards of the long-lived Jennerits. He could not deny that a purely needful part of him was beginning to claw at the walls for release, and combat alone did not seem to be alleviating the frustration he felt building up inside of him. It wasn't a matter of whether he could control it or not – of course he could. But if it would help restore some of his focus to allow such a frivolous release then perhaps it was worth the sacrifice to loosen the iron grip he held on his willpower just this once.

As he followed this line of thought he allowed his eyes to slowly travel down Deande's reclining form. She was a dangerous partner to choose. Or was she the perfect choice? She made no secret of her physical interest in him, but that could just as easily have been one of the mind games she so loved playing with those around her. It was entirely possible she had no actual interest in bedding him at all and simply played with him because she didn't think there was any chance he would ever respond in kind. But the benefit of releasing his physical needs with her would be an absolute assurance that there was no risk of her placing any sort of emotional attachment on the act. Deande was never motivated by emotion. In fact, Rath wasn't sure he could say with any certainty that the assassin truly _actually_ felt anything but was perhaps only perfectly skilled at showing people what they wanted to see.

That was irrelevant. All he needed from her, if he was going to go through with this, was her body and her skills as a lover. He had no doubt those were likely on par with her skills in dealing death. But how to approach the subject?

Rath suddenly felt quite unsure of himself, a feeling so alien to him that it made him instantly flash with anger and disgust. A warrior of his ilk should never be unsure of anything! A deeper drink from the wine glass took the edge off that welling rage before it could peak, and he refilled his glass. Deande opened her eyes then and leaned forward, holding her nearly-emptied glass out for a refill as well. He could feel her discerning gaze on his face as he did so, but he didn't look at her. Instead, he started talking.

"Didn't you say you came here to tell me something? So tell me something, before you drink all my wine."

She feigned hurt at his words, her hand clutching at her breast in mock indignity and conveniently sliding down the zipper on her skintight catsuit in the process. The small movement was well camouflaged but did not escape Rath's notice, nor did he fail to notice the greater expanse of flawlessly smooth pale flesh and the rounded sides of her breasts that showed more fully in the newly widened gap. She obviously wore nothing underneath the suit, not that anything would fit beneath it anyway. Deande saw his glance, and her ensuing smirk was both triumphant and a tiny bit smug. It made Rath want to slap it off her pretty face, but he only took another deep drink.

"It pains me that you think so little of me, my dear Verod. The wine is a welcome treat, but my primary goal here is you of course. Both in an official capacity and a casual one. Aren't we friends, after all?"

He took another drink, feeling the warmth of the first wave of intoxication starting at the back of his neck. Rarely did the Jennerit warrior allow himself such indulgences, but apparently this was a day for letting go of discipline. "Please, Deande. You know as well as I do that beings such as ourselves do not have the luxury of true friendship. But mutually beneficial relationships that generate a measure of trust and familiarity, certainly. By that definition, we are 'friends'. But my patience even for my _friends_ is not much greater than that I have for my enemies, so by the Empress I swear if you don't tell me what you came here to-"

Deande laughed and waved a hand, cutting him off before his ire could build and he launched into another tirade. "You really are on edge, aren't you." It wasn't a question. The lithe ageless woman took a long lingering sip of her wine, eyeing Rath over the rim as she drew out the moment. Finally, she sighed and relented.

"I thought you would want to know, we have pinpointed the origin in space of the Varelsi phenomena. Rather, Kleese and Phoebe have located a cross-section of space at a specific point that they believe is the source of the Varelsi focus. We still don't know why those parasites are there, and we don't know exactly where in that sector what we're looking for may be, or _what_ exactly we're looking for. It's a very old star system, mostly uncharted but generating massive waves of energy that are reaching deep into space. Something is out there and we're going to go investigate it. "

Here she paused a moment, searching Rath's face for a reaction. She saw none but it did seem as if her were holding himself very still, perhaps even holding his breath. "Most of the crew told me not to waste my time coming to tell you of this, as they do not believe you'll care and won't be interested in helping. But if this comes to a battle we would be at a much greater disadvantage to not have Verod Rath fighting beside the Battleborn once again. I, for one, do not like the idea of going into the unknown with anything but every possible advantage already in place. So here I am. Tell me, Verod, what's your price to rejoin the fight?"

He did react then, slamming his glass down so hard on the ebony table that it shattered, spraying ruby red shards and black-red droplets of wine on both of them. Rage twisted his features and he reached out, snatching the sides of the open front of her black catsuit and pulling her toward him roughly. His move was not without agility, but certainly not fast enough that Deande could not easily have avoided it if she so chose. She chose not to though, letting him manhandle her for the moment.

"You think I can be _bought?_ Do you dare to so insult my very honor _assassin?_ " The man was practically seething, his eyes flaring with crimson fire and his breath coming in hard gasps that filled his broad chest to maximum, making it press against her chest rhythmically. The proximity of his body against hers let her feel something else too, pressing just as noticeably and just as insistently, but against her hip where he had dragged her halfway into his lap. She smiled inwardly to herself, noting his obvious arousal despite his anger, though she thought it prudent not to let the smile show outwardly at the moment.

She reached up slowly, her movements careful and open so that he could see her intent, and gently stroked her soft hand down the side of his angular face. Her voice was low and gentle when she spoke next, "My dear Verod, not that. Never that. I meant only that we need you and I know you have responsibilities here, and if there is anything you need from us to make that happen then we are more than willing to give it. _I_ am more than willing to give it…" She trailed off, maintaining pointed eye contact with Rath while her hand moved down from his face to slowly encircle the titanium zipper on the front of her bodice and sliding it down all the way to the stopper well below her navel. As the bodice opened wide her breasts spilled out, the position of his hands on the open flaps of fabric putting them in such close proximity that her breasts brushed against them. Immediately the prodding of his arousal against her hip intensified.

Deande said nothing further, merely watched his face with her body bared to him, the invitation clear and open. He would take it or he would not, but she believed she knew which. She would not likely have made this bold move if she thought there was much chance of rejection – reading people was one of an assassin's most valuable skills, even reading the more difficult targets like this warrior before her now.

Rath's breathing steadied, the fire in his eyes dying down to a more lustful low smolder that the spymistress recognized. She'd seen that look in the eyes of many a lover over her long life, and she was pleased to see it now in Verod's face. He said nothing more either, only growling low in his throat and moving his hands to roughly rip down the remainder of her bodysuit and rip the bottom where the zipper had stopped to exposure more of her body to him. She arched her back and angled her limbs, making it easier for him, feeling her own excitement building up as he tore the rest of the clothing off her.

When he leaned down to claim one of her breasts with his mouth she moaned and yelped at the nip of his teeth, the brutal grip of his large powerful hands on her slender hips. He wasn't gentle, and that's just the way she liked it. And Deande always got what she wanted.


End file.
